(no subject)
Hours earlier, I am thinking "You have left your ghost, your glasses, your pants, and a book."
Isaac's flight was scheduled to leave at 7:50pm yesterday.
Katie came with me to the airport to drop him off, didn't want me to be sad and driving home alone.
We wait in lines with him and have to walk away at the security gate. I kiss his face a few times and turn to leave and am at this place where I can easily spill over with tears and short upset-little-kid breaths or, just as easily, hold it in for a bit. Katie looks at me and goes "Jenni, don't cry!" and we start crying for a few seconds but compose ourselves while walking to my car, arms over each other's shoulders, walking next to each other. I don't feel like he isn't around, but I do. You know.
Radiohead plays in the car. I forgot my telephone at home. I drop Katie off at her house and come home and sulk and eat. My mother says she called a few times and left messages, only to find out that I'd left my phone at the house. I get bored and go outside to check my messages.
Isaac's voice didn't sound like his own when he called to tell me that his flight was cancelled, he couldn't get another flight until 6:30am. He didn't have the money to call me again, but said he'd be out in a public place and would like it if I could come see him again.
It is pouring out. There is a tropical storm coming and I can't see that far in front of me. I don't have much money, and I have even less gas. I am singing Regina Spektor songs to myself loudly when I am not audibly praying to everything and everyone. I am half-convinced that I won't make it to the airport.
I buy sixteen dollars worth of gas and get to the airport in twenty, twenty five minutes. Isaac calls while I am sixteen minutes away.
A bit later, we're sitting on what used to be some cows. A leather couch. My head is on his stomach and I tell him it feels like he just went to the bathroom for a few hours, it feels like he's there but not, has left but not.
We visit Katie, who makes this "What the fuck are you doing here?" face to Isaac. We go to sleep a little while later.
Isaac was going to take a flight that left at 7:50pm and arrived in Toronto at around 11:30pm. He would then hang around the airport until 9am, when he'd catch a flight from Toronto to B.C.
His new flight left at 6:30am and wouldn't get to Toronto until 9:30am.
The ticket to Toronto was one-way. The ticket to B.C. is the return flight he bought last month (departing B.C. August 5th, returning August 31st). They are bought from different companies, and are for different airlines.
It costs $170 we do not have to reschedule a flight from Toronto to B.C.
I don't remember going to sleep, but I didn't kiss him as much as I'd wanted to, I was so sleepy.
We overslept. I'd set my alarm clock for 3am and my dad woke us up at 5:15am and insisted on driving, since I just woke up. My teeth were chattering and I don't feel like I was around him half an hour ago. I don't know if he caught his flight and we don't know what is going on when he gets to Toronto.
I am Jenni's sinking stomach.
Universe, take care of this boy.
Isaac's flight was scheduled to leave at 7:50pm yesterday.
Katie came with me to the airport to drop him off, didn't want me to be sad and driving home alone.
We wait in lines with him and have to walk away at the security gate. I kiss his face a few times and turn to leave and am at this place where I can easily spill over with tears and short upset-little-kid breaths or, just as easily, hold it in for a bit. Katie looks at me and goes "Jenni, don't cry!" and we start crying for a few seconds but compose ourselves while walking to my car, arms over each other's shoulders, walking next to each other. I don't feel like he isn't around, but I do. You know.
Radiohead plays in the car. I forgot my telephone at home. I drop Katie off at her house and come home and sulk and eat. My mother says she called a few times and left messages, only to find out that I'd left my phone at the house. I get bored and go outside to check my messages.
Isaac's voice didn't sound like his own when he called to tell me that his flight was cancelled, he couldn't get another flight until 6:30am. He didn't have the money to call me again, but said he'd be out in a public place and would like it if I could come see him again.
It is pouring out. There is a tropical storm coming and I can't see that far in front of me. I don't have much money, and I have even less gas. I am singing Regina Spektor songs to myself loudly when I am not audibly praying to everything and everyone. I am half-convinced that I won't make it to the airport.
I buy sixteen dollars worth of gas and get to the airport in twenty, twenty five minutes. Isaac calls while I am sixteen minutes away.
A bit later, we're sitting on what used to be some cows. A leather couch. My head is on his stomach and I tell him it feels like he just went to the bathroom for a few hours, it feels like he's there but not, has left but not.
We visit Katie, who makes this "What the fuck are you doing here?" face to Isaac. We go to sleep a little while later.
Isaac was going to take a flight that left at 7:50pm and arrived in Toronto at around 11:30pm. He would then hang around the airport until 9am, when he'd catch a flight from Toronto to B.C.
His new flight left at 6:30am and wouldn't get to Toronto until 9:30am.
The ticket to Toronto was one-way. The ticket to B.C. is the return flight he bought last month (departing B.C. August 5th, returning August 31st). They are bought from different companies, and are for different airlines.
It costs $170 we do not have to reschedule a flight from Toronto to B.C.
I don't remember going to sleep, but I didn't kiss him as much as I'd wanted to, I was so sleepy.
We overslept. I'd set my alarm clock for 3am and my dad woke us up at 5:15am and insisted on driving, since I just woke up. My teeth were chattering and I don't feel like I was around him half an hour ago. I don't know if he caught his flight and we don't know what is going on when he gets to Toronto.
I am Jenni's sinking stomach.
Universe, take care of this boy.