Throughout my whole life I’ve been waiting to feel the permanent butterflies, the unconditional love and the loyalty that comes with finding the person you want to spend the rest of your life with and finally I’ve found it.
Its been a year now, to me it’s been over a year because I’ve been yours…
It is approximately 9o clock Midwestern time or central time whatever the fuck its called, and from my airplane window I see winding rivers and roads between what seems to be a never ending sea of green. I’m leaving des moines as we speak and heading back to my “normal life” in arizona. I remember a time when leaving this shitty city didn’t have such a negative affect on my psyche, a time when I couldn’t wait to hop on the first flight smoking out of “whitesville.” Fuck this state, I still hate it as much as I did when I went to school here. Full of judgemental assholes and racist white faces who have only seen a black person as they pass vh1 and love and hip hop is on tv…The only good thing about it is the fact that I get to see the girl who makes me happier than anybody could imagine. I use to laugh at this hole in the wall that these people call an airport, but it seems that every time I leave I rarely laugh anymore. This airport but more so the escalator is a constant reminder that time is more valuable than we have ever perceived. People stand in anticipation of seeing their loved one walk down those escalators, and rush to greet them at the bottom with a shower of affection. While WE are cursed with the darker side of this airport, the up escalators. God knows I hate going up that one fucking flight of steps, because at the bottom is a beautiful blue eyes arian princess with teary eyes and mascara stained palms anticipating my return. While at the top is the doorway out of Narnia and back into the wardrobe of real life. I don’t want to look at her crying, but I can’t stop myself from watching. Every second I watch my eyes fill more and more with the aches of our souls. My heart tells me to say fuck my flight and ride those opposite escalators til my feet are back on the first floor just to feel her embrace, just to feel her lips pressed to mine once more. My brain on the other hand tells me to act logically and handle my many responsibilities beyond this empty tsa line. Because as soon as I land I will be riding the down escalator to a group of familiar faces that will shower me with affection but none of them will be her. None of them will be the girl at the bottom of those des moines up escalators. And how I will wish and beg and plead to be back in that airport that I use to laugh at, to walk up to those down escalators and smile because I know that you’re at the bottom waiting for me. But it is not so and I will forever be plagued with the curse of those god damned escalators until we no longer have to take flights so share each others touch.