• The Airport

    by  • July 9, 2011 • * Safe for Work *, Letting Go • 0 Comments

    Dear Mister,

    Everyday I have a small excitement and dread that I will see you again in some public place. Every time I see that car I turn dead cold and wonder if it’s you in it.

    I daydream of what I would do if I ever did see you, and what you would do if you ever saw me. Sometimes I cried, sometimes I ran away, and sometimes I hugged you. I could never imagine what you would do.

    It would be the irony of my life that I missed my airplane, and had to catch a flight two hours later. At first I thought it was my irrational paranoia again that spotted you at the gate. But you were wearing that dumb baseball cap and your voice carried like it always does.

    I did nothing like what I thought I would. I huddled down, buried my nose in my book and prayed and prayed you would not see me. I was terrified, horrified, and humiliated. But you being there finally enlightened me.

    The days that I used to admire you are gone. I used to wish and work for your compliments. Now I can confidently say I do not want to ever meet you again. I’m a much happier, healthier person without you in my life.

    You may have inspired me to jump into music, but I’m glad now we parted ways. I don’t feel guilty anymore. I don’t feel ashamed, or like I have to prove anything to you anymore. You can be as cocky and as arrogant as you like.

    Thanks for the knowledge,
    a free bird.

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