A LONG WAY TO GO

Warning: this is going to captivate you for the next few minutes, remember it's 'A Long Way To Go'... Have fun.


Have you ever had that feeling in your chest; like you were sinking, spinning, and floating at the same time? Your insides anxiously twisted into a mangled mess of excitement and fear? If you don't, then, I guess the description I just provided may prove to help you understand how I felt the moment my suitcase touched the airport pavement.

127868027_720891041966546_7491723787680834298_o.jpg

"This is the kind of thing you're supposed to read in the paper... or on a blog..." A soft mutter escaped me in that moment.

Meeting someone for the first time in real life when you had known them for so long.. it was like meeting a new person, but, you knew you already would be friends. I mean, yeah, we're friends.. but, I've never touched her in real life. Never seen her. Spoken face to face. Photos and videos are different. You can control the light, the sound, the angle and your voice. But this would be my first moment getting to feel and see her in real life.

Why'd I dress so formal?
Ugh... I'm gonna look stupid when I arrive. This ain't me. But, I guess I wanted to impress her for the first meeting. Moisture clung to the air in a thick fog, had I been wearing glasses I may have been easily blinded by the gathering droplets that clustered on the windshield and windows of the bus I arrived on. Everything was in order.

With hesitant steps, the heels of my shoes clicked across the sidewalk, my suitcase jittering on its wheels while it dragged behind me.

Not many people were there today, thankfully. The normal airport crowds seemingly absent entirely except for a few clumps of families here and there. I went through the routine they put every passenger through. They checked me, the luggage, my papers, everything. Due to the lack of long lines, I was through in less than the normal couple of hours it may have taken some people.
Would she be as pretty in real life?

Would she act the same?
Does she really sound the way she does?
What if I don't look like my photos?
If she doesn't show up?
Maybe she forgot I was coming.

Endless thoughts mauled my brain, clouding everything and drowning me in the fog that lingered outside the lobby windows. I may not have been out in that nasty weather... but every doubt and worry, every anxious question that piled up in my head made it feel as though the very storm that stalked me, lurking outside, had managed to permeate my mind. My hands kept a firm grip on the handle of my suitcase, white knuckled and sweaty, but nonetheless, a grip. I was proud to have at least managed that. My other hand shook terribly at my side, a cold sweat beginning to crawl up my spine.

I shouldn't have worn a suit... I shouldn't have greased my hair... I shouldn't have packed so much, maybe she'll think I'm a schmooze or something. Again, more incessant thoughts. Seemingly never going to disappear.

Inhaling slowly, my free hand travelled up to run its fingers through the slicked back - almost coal colored - hair upon my head.

Maybe I should've gotten a haircut? I mean, my bangs were nearly a centimeter from brushing against my eyebrows when they weren't drawn back... no, no. She'll be fine. She doesn't judge. She's not like that. Is she?

I sighed heavily with frustration and let go of my suitcase, holding my head in my hands in an attempt to recollect my thoughts.

"Don't be such a pessimist." I chided myself quietly in a breathless fit.
Sitting back up, I exhaled slowly and leaned back into my lobby chair. The air was cold and sterile, the tiled floors reflecting every object around me in all their polished glory. It felt like being in a hospital. I guess that made sense, my heart felt like it was about to stop anyway, a hospital sounded real good at that moment.

A small flat screen TV flickered on the wall that opposed my row of seats, showing re-runs of “I Love Lucy”.

Heh... I hadn't thought airports played those old shows anymore. A small table across from me had a little black remote on a short chain. That was it. Someone before me must've changed the channel.
Ah, Lucy. How that show seemed to brighten my mood. I didn't watch many black and white television shows, they never really caught my interest. Now seemed as good a time as any for a distraction though, my mind willingly turning itself to focus on the woman dancing about on the screen.

The distraction actually worked very well, a great sum of time snapping by in what felt like a brief moment. I was sucked into the childish and naïve antics of the character on screen. I had barely noticed the elderly woman who had taken a seat beside me.

She eyed me with a warm and aged grin, "Huh.. you didn't change the channel." The woman spoke softly, shifting her jaw a few times, shakily wetting her dried lips. I snapped back into focus, my attention now turned to her. The woman's eyes were a pale green, her hair was a curly mess atop her round little head. She was stout and yet frail, her thin hands holding fast onto the handles of the walker she had in front of her.

"Oh... no, I suppose I didn't." I returned the smile and sat up properly in my seat. She looked so sweet, so little, so innocent... her smile was reassuring for some reason.
"Did you set the channel, ma'am?" I questioned her politely, hoping to make some form of conversation to help ease my rising nerves again.

"You betcha. Lucy is my daughter's favorite show. We watched it all the time. I would've been here for the start of this episode, but I had to make a run to the restroom." She glanced up at the screen, blinking for a moment, "I seen this one before." We talked for some time, mostly about little things. What shows we watched, what her daughter did in high school, what I did in high school... but the little things helped me through the big thing in that moment. Waiting.

"So, where ya headed?" She finally asked, digging through her purse for a moment.
"Um... well, to Nebraska. I'm meeting a friend there." I answered, breaking eye contact for a nervous moment, the glancing down at her hands.

She pulled out a post-it pad and pulled a paper off, folding it quietly in her lap. "Is he a good friend of yours? It seems a long way from South Carolina to Nebraska. He must be like a brother to you." The woman muttered softly.

I smiled little at her words, puffing my chest up a little, "A-actually... it's a girl. I've been talking to her for some time over the internet." My sentences broke apart for a moment before I found my voice again, "This is the first time we get to meet in real life."

Her old face lit up with happiness, "Ah... you lucky rascal." She beamed and glanced up from the paper she folded. "Are y'all, you know, do you fancy the little lady?" She asked with a playful smirk.
At those words, she received a warm chuckle from me, "We're friends I suppose. Maybe I fancy her. Maybe I don't.. I don't really know yet." My shoulders pulled up into a shrug before slouching again.
Her little pink blouse shifted as she turned to face me, every little rose in the floral pattern dancing across her frame with the movement, "Well, I wish the best of luck t'ya. Here..." she reached out a soft, pale, hand and gave me the folded paper.

It was a little crane. A memory from fourth grade jumped into my mind. I remembered making cranes once. Gladly, I took the small origami bird and tugged lightly on its tail, the paper wings flapping silently with each movement.

127208003_2779871202254464_4513391613744465142_o.jpg

"Thank you." I spoke in delight, tucking the bird into my pocket. Suddenly, a nasal voice droned over the intercom. My flight had arrived. Any form of courage I had just gathered... poof. It was gone. This was it.

H2
H3
H4
3 columns
2 columns
1 column
2 Comments
Ecency