Long flights can get quiet boring. I mean you can only sleep so much, which means you have to get creative with occupying yourself the rest of the time. Luckily for Naomi she happens to be freshly single and seated next to a man truly sculpted by go...
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Staring at the stupid stemless wine glass that is made speicifially so it can't tip over and spill as I twirl it around on the bar top, I try to decide if I should order one more glass.
On one hand, my flight boards in 35 minutes and I should pee before I walk down the three gates from the mediocre bar to where I have to get on the flying metal deathtrap. On the other hand, I am still sober enough to walk which means my plan from when I sat down was an utter failure.
I wave down the bartender, to signal I am done with the stupid glass that has been both the object of my affection and the source of my rage for the last hour and 45 minutes. Affection since it somewhat did its job and calmed my nerves so I didn't focus on my crippling fear of flying while I waited nearly two hours. Rage because I shouldn't need this stupid glass full of its cheap wine to calm my nerves.
He should be here in its place soothing me.
11 days ago I never imagined that I would be sitting here, completely alone. No, 11 days ago I was sending my boyfriend flight confirmations and picking up his tux from the cleaners. Only to get home and find him on my couch with a grim look. For him to tell me that my sister's wedding, the wedding that he has known about for 7 fucking months, is messing up his final spring break! That he would rather go to Florida, where he grew up by the way, with his little friends than go to the wedding with me which, besides Saturday and a few hours on Friday for the rehearsal, is basically an all expenses paid trip to the goddamn Maldives!
What a waste of a year and a half of my life.
I hope he is crying in his shitty watered down drink in South Beach right now replaying my stunning breakup speech over and over in his head. I know I am enjoying replays of his shocked face when I announced if he wasn't coming to my sister's wedding it was over between us. It is almost laughable that he thought he could cancel at the last minute and we could continue our relationship.
I may feel a bit like a pathetic loser going to my big sister's wedding freshly single but it is better than letting some sad excuse of a man disrespect my time and my sister's big day.
I pay for my drinks and drag my little carry-on suitcase to the bathroom. It isn't until I lean down to splash my face with some water, that I realize my wine plan worked a little more than I originally thought it did. I giggle at myself in the mirror, feeling giddy as the woman a few sinks down side-eyes me like I am disturbed.
I grab my bag again and begin skipping down to the gate. My flight anxiety hasn't hit yet and I am hoping the wine in my system keeps it at bay long enough that I don't sob like an idiot during take off like I normally do. God, that would be embarrassing.
Jayden was supposed to be here to help me with my fear of flying but he isn't, which means I need to do this myself. I am 21, almost 22 and about to graduate college; I think I can handle a little plane ride.
