leaving on a jet plane
16.10.16 | 2:07 pm
i flew back to kentucky a couple of weeks ago for a wedding. it was my boyfriend's best friend's wedding, and my boyfriend was the best man, so he was there a few days earlier than me.
so i flew in, expecting my boyfriend to happily greet me in nashville to drive me back to our alma mater. the plane wheels hit the ground and i feel freer - it always feels like there's more air (and there is) and it's so much easier to breathe. it's such a relaxing feeling to know you've landed at home.
i turn on my phone and read the text message from my boyfriend that...he drank too much the night before and, actually, he won't be able to pick me up. instead, i'll have to wait four hours for people i've never met to land from boston so that i can ride back with them.
and in that moment, i knew. i knew that this is what i should have expected. i knew, in my heart, that he wasn't going to be there. i knew.
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the actual wedding was gorgeous. they had instrumental versions of beatles songs that they walked down to, they had mini coke bottles at dinner, and they brewed their own beer for the reception. we danced all night.
but my heart is broken. when the plane landed, i felt it - and the entire weekend, and every day since, i've felt so heavy with a sense of burden and grief.
we've talked about it. we've discussed. and as always, he says he'll improve. he'll fix it. just like every other time this has happened, and in three months, it'll happen again.
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today, i'm hungover. my brain hurts and my stomach hurts and i just want to sleep. so maybe that's what i'll do.