Flights of Fancy

I finally calmed down enough to drive home. All I wanted to do was get into bed and close my eyes and never wake up again. Everything felt heavy. Everything hurt too much.


My mom was leaving to go to the airport for a business trip - I saw her round the corner of the street as I was driving towards the house. She called to ask what I was doing driving home at 5:45 in the morning. I told her I had just dropped off M. I didn't want to talk. She tried to comfort me, but it only manage to annoy me. I cut the conversation short and pulled into the driveway. I hated living at home. It had been 7 years since I'd lived with my parents, but because I had had M's apartment to stay in and my parents house was so close to the school I had initially been going to, York, it didn't make sense to move out.


I walked into the house and up the stairs. My dad was home. He hollered a hello, wondering if my mom had forgotten something.  I told him it was me and I was going back to bed and not to come wake me before he left. There is nothing MORE awkward than my dad when it comes to me and boys. M and I had been together for 3 and a half years, and I visited home infrequently, so occasionally M would sleep at my parents house with me so I could see my parents and see M - to this day, my dad still pretends that M would just show up for breakfast. I'm not even kidding. Its kind of adorable and kind of uncomfortable at the same time. 


I dropped everything when I got to my room. Closed the door. Closed the drapes. Closed the blinds. Left the lights off. I crawled under the blankets of my bed and sobbed hysterically into the pillows so my dad wouldn't hear. Everything hurt - I swear I could even feel pain in the follicles of my hair. I would try to calm myself down and manage a moment or two of silence before sobs would wrack my body all over again. I'd never felt anything like it. I'd felt worse pain, I'd experienced loss before, but not a loss like this  - not one that was self-inflicted.


I sent my friend B a message. B wasn't my best friend in the world, but she had recently been through some tough stuff with her bf and I was there for her and I knew she'd do the same for me. And B was the perfect person to talk to because I didn't want to talk to my best friends. It made it too real. B knew me, she knew M, she knew us. She didn't judge. She just listened and did what every girl does - offer to distract me with movies and ice cream.


I also messaged S, my best friend in the whole world. She lived in London. She couldn't have been more happy I was coming - but she knew leaving M would be tough.


Somewhere along the lines of talking to them I decided I needed to go to Mexico. I had to follow M. If he could have stayed and given us more time he would have. He would do anything for me. But he was in a situation where his dad needed him and he couldn't put me first. I had to show him I could put him first, if for no other reason than I needed him to understand how important he was to me. B was a bit skeptical, but supportive nonetheless and S was totally on board. She even offered to book my ticket for me.


I went back and forth on subject a bit. Was I really about to get on a plane to Mexico? Was this making it better? Was it making it worse? What did I think I was doing? Last night, M said he wanted me there - we had decided that we would be together until I left the country, so we could still have time to say goodbye while he was in Mexico. But maybe now that he was on the plane he wasn't into it anymore. Maybe he just needed to cut me off cold turkey. I tried to message him on his phone. He was in the air. I  called again on his layover - his phone was still off. I called Chicago airport on his layover and tried to have them page him. They wouldn't. I tried to call again when I thought he would have landed in Mexico. Still his phone was off.


I was resolute in my head, I was going to Mexico. I found a flight. I almost booked it - and then it hit me: I had no idea where M was in Mexico exactly. I knew what city - but I didn't have an address.


I called his mom to ask if she knew the address. And to my shock - and yet also not shock at all, because this is so typical of his family  - she did not have a clue as to what his address was. She didn't know the name of the real estate agent, or the car company they prearranged. She didn't even know that they had flown into Guadalajara. Like I said before, the woman is sweeter than sweet but heads in the clouds!


Soon the conversation shifted from where I was supposed to go when I got there to if I should go at all. I hadn't asked for her opinion; she gave it to me anyways. I was prolonging the hurt, I was taking M away from his dad, it wasn't fair to either of us to drag this out, it wasn't fair to make this time about M and I when it should be about making sure M's dad got settled in Mexico,  I wasn't going to accomplish anything if I went, we would see where we were in a year, it wasn't so long... and on she went for about 20 minutes. It came from a place of true love, the woman doesn't have a mean bone in her body and she truly thought she was being helpful and saying what M would say - but it was the worst thing I'd ever heard anyone say. I sat on the phone with tears streaming down my face trying my best not to cry out loud - trying my best not to make her feel bad for making me cry... She broke my heart all over again.


I began to doubt myself, doubt that he wanted me to come, doubt that he wanted me at all. I got so wrapped up in my head and what M's mom had said that I began to think she was right. What was I trying to accomplish anyways?


I sat down at my computer and wrote to M - I lay everything on the table. How I wanted to come, how his mom said not to, how I didn't want to be selfish with him if his dad needed him, how I loved him, how I'd never hurt so much in my life, how I wasn't sure he'd still want to be with me now that he'd left, how I couldn't make the decision with him in the air without hearing his thoughts, how I needed him to know I'd do it in heart beat, how he was coming first for me now and that I hoped it wasn't too late... everything that I thought that day I put into an email - crying the entire time I wrote it - and finally clicking send.


I couldn't get on an airplane without him knowing I was coming...


Could I?