i’ve lost my love.
i’ve lost it for new york, and i’ve lost it for you.
the best feeling, to me at least, is turning my phone on airplane mode. there’s something so magical about planes. there’s something about traveling to the place you love, maybe even for someone you love, that is immensely beautiful. the clouds scream your name when the turbulence hits. the sky goes from blue to gray to pink to orange to black. the buildings and light fade until all you’re left with is your thoughts. it scares me. i’m just writing this now because i know how scared i am to sit and think. what do i even think about? who do i think about?
on the way here, i thought about you, i thought about my fears of seeing you again, i thought about “i adore you” and “i can’t wait to see you” but if i really feel that way, i wouldn’t be so excited to go home. i used to think my home was with you. you made me feel like nobody else could but now it seems like i only got on this plane for closure. this is what i had been so scared of. this small airport is not even noticeable 4,000 feet into the air and i’m starting to think maybe you aren’t either. i hope you don’t read this either, and i won’t tell you about this one.
there’s a baby crying three rows up, but my urge to tell you about it when i land is next to zero. how ironic though, you told me about it before i left. you told me about your trip to italy and your flight with a crying baby, and you said i was lucky i had never experienced that before. you told me about your ex-girlfriend. maybe she’s even the one you told me you would do anything for and will probably love forever. you were texting her before i left, trust me i see everything — so maybe go be with her. maybe focus on getting what you want. i focused on you for so long you, because i thought you were all i wanted. i can’t believe i ever thought that — actually, i can because i know how much i want love. and my heart was set on wanting your love, but it turns out your love isn’t what i wanted at all. funny thing is i don’t feel broken-hearted, i don’t feel that aching pain i get in my chest, i don’t feel sad, angry, or stupid. i just feel like i lost something i’m never going to miss, which is crazy because i thought i would miss it — miss you, i mean. i thought you were my world, my rock, my everything. crazy how 48 hours can change things.