TAKEOFF
It was at the security checkpoint that Charlie felt that funny feeling in his stomach. It happened just before he removed his shoes and just after he took out all the items in his pockets and placed them in one of those grey plastic bins on the black conveyor belt that fed the x-ray machine. He saw his cracked phone lying next to his worn leather wallet and his cheap blue headphones in the bin and remembered he hadn’t heard from Jessica in two days. By the time both of his socked feet were making friends with the rough airport carpet below, he knew he might be in trouble, and his stomach didn’t like it.
After going through his own x-ray machine (arms up please!) and reuniting with his possessions, Charlie walked through the airport terminal and tried to ignore that funny feeling. He realized this had been easier to do in the past two days. His New Year’s Eve and Day had been filled with an onslaught of friends and family back home on the west coast who all wanted to catch up with him and hear about his relatively new “wild” life in the south. During those forty eight hours of endless distraction it was easy to forget the absence of a response.
What are your New Year’s plans, Jess?
But the airport was different.
The airport was full of strangers. None of whom wanted anything to do with Charlie, nor Charlie them. There were few distractions to speak of. So the funny feeling grew worse. Charlie suddenly saw a very unpleasant scenario unfolding in the near future. Him on the plane, sitting there for hours and doing nothing but dwelling on whether it had finally happened.
She was spending New Years with someone else. They kissed at midnight, they fucked til dawn….
No, he wasn’t going to allow that. He could think of nothing more unpleasant or unproductive. So Charlie issued a stern warning to himself.
You are not going to dwell on this. It’s probably nothing, and even if it’s not, you both knew this would happen eventually. You know the score. If it happens, it happens. But you are NOT going to dwell on this before you actually know something.
Twenty minutes later, Charlie was handing his ticket to the smiling flight attendant at the front of the airgate. Charlie smiled back. It was a legitimate smile. He was feeling pretty good about himself. He had barely thought about the thing since he had issued that warning, and the funny feeling had been more or less replaced with a sort of glowing confidence. Like he had just proven himself a man of a certain maturity, a man who could be pragmatic enough to control his emotions, while still wise enough to understand why his emotions were acting the way they were. Yes, he thought as he took his first steps into the airgate, he was a fully realized man now. Good for him.
Five minutes later, he was in the plane walking down the aisle while looking for a seat opposite the window. Not that he was afraid of heights or anything like that, it was just that he hated the feeling of being trapped. Charlie required some sort of freedom of movement at all times. Of course, when you’re on a plane thousands of feet in the air, there was little you could do about that. But at least an aisle seat allowed one to have one side that was free, where you could stretch your legs or take a walk to the bathroom if you feel so inclined. Yes sir, an aisle seat was the only way to go as far as Charlie was concerned.
He eventually found such a seat near the back of the plane. Both the aisle seat and the middle seat were open, in fact. But he frowned at the window seat, where a beefy guy sat, wearing a nice suit, a lot hair gel, and with a nasty soul patch in the middle of his square, stubbled chin. The man was on his phone, talking business like he was a big shot, peppering his words with obscenities and threats. (“You tell that SOB if he tries to pull out now on this deal we will go after everything, fucking everything!”) In a mere second, Charlie sized him up as a Dude Bro, a term he had learned from Jessica. Dude Bros were his least favorite kind of person. The kind of guys with tons of swagger, zero humility, and a penchant for barking their beliefs at any and everyone. Charlie could not think of a worse plane neighbor than a Dude Bro. He looked down and saw a thick forearm taking every inch of the armrest. What were the odds that would change once someone sat next to him? And then there were his knees. Both knees spread as far as possible like the fucker was expecting to give birth any minute during the flight. Charlie remembered Jessica told him there was a term for this.
Manspreading.
Much like the armrest, he had little hope that this manspread would change once someone took that middle seat. But of course, he considered, he wouldn’t be sitting right next to him, so maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.
Charlie scanned the rows of seats in front of him. There was only one other aisle seat available, with a small boy and his mother, filling the rest of the row. He noted the mother seemed rather young, as far as moms go, plus an attractive brunette to boot. He quickly weighed his options. He frowned again when he realized the math told him to take the seat right here. Sure the Dude Bro wasn’t great, but there was that middle seat buffer. The attractive mom was enticing, but there was no telling how that kid was going to react once they were in the air. No, he had been through too many screaming fits in the past to risk it now. The math told him to take the Dude Bro, so he did.
As he clicked the seatbelt over his lap, he felt his phone vibrate one single time in his pocket. That funny feeling returned to his stomach now, but this time with a message.
Leave it alone. Just in case, leave it alone.
Charlie was a man of logic, and logically he knew being afraid to check his phone was just stupid. So he took it out and found a message from Jessica waiting for him.
Do not open that message.
But of course he did.
“Sorry Charlie, I’ve been really distracted lately.”
Now that funny feeling in his stomach seemed to change gears. As if the feeling was moving around inside him at a much faster speed, rumbling all over his gut. He tried to dismiss this.
OK, that is an odd message to send, but I’m not going to-
But before he could even finish the thought, his phone vibrated again. And since his screen was already displaying their texts, there was no warning about a new message, no protective buffer between him and the truth. There was only the message itself at the bottom of the screen.
“The truth is I’ve recently been seeing someone else, and I didn’t know how to tell you or even what to say.”
That’s when a lot of things happened very quickly inside Charlie. First, a sort of blanketed numbness covered him, both inside and out. And as he reread that last text again and again, the numbness stayed. Until it didn’t. Until it faded into nothingness and Charlie realized there was a war going on inside him. A war between his head and his stomach. That fucking funny feeling had now changed gears three times in two seconds, rocketing its way in any and every direction, demanding that all hell be let loose. His head was trying to fight this, battling this feeling with solid, bullet proof, arguments.
This was gonna happen eventually.
She didn’t do anything wrong.
It was either you or her who made this move first.
It’s been five months since you last saw her.
For a time, the head seemed to be winning the battle, and Charlie was able to text a mature response back.
Ah. Yeah, I had that feeling maybe that was happening. Well, thanks for telling me.
But as he watched the sending notification flash just above this mature text, he felt the war inside him take a decidedly bad turn. That feeling in his stomach had fought its way up into his chest, dead center. Then it stopped being a funny feeling and turned into something else, something worse. An ache. A slowly churning, tortuous ache. And Charlie began to feel very nervous, because this ache was growing in size with each passing second.
No. No this isn’t right. I knew this was going to happen. I prepared for this.
“Attention ladies and gentlemen,” a perky flight attendant spoke into the PA system, “we are a completely full flight today, so please find a seat as quickly as you can, so we can make our departure.”
“Excuse me,” a man said, suddenly hovering over Charlie. Charlie continued to stare down at the phone. The sending notification had disappeared, the message had been sent. Would she respond, he wondered. Of course she would, how could she not? She would probably say something awful and cliche like “I want to make sure we stay friends”? Oh god, if she did that, he would raise a little hell for sure.
Easy buddy, she didn’t do anything wrong.
“Excuse me,” the voice said again, more impatient this time around.
Charlie snapped back to the present, realized the man standing above him wanted to sit, and without even thinking about it, he rose and scooted over to the middle seat, never once taking his eyes off his phone.
She must have gotten the text by now. He thought as he put on his new seatbelt. What is she waiting for? She has to say something. She wouldn’t just say only that. She couldn’t.
As he continued to wait for something, anything, he absently tried to put his left arm back on the armrest, only to find it smothered by a bulky stretch of meat encased in a slick suit. Charlie looked over in confusion and realized what had happened.
You stupid motherfucker, he thought. You stupid dumb motherfucker. You just gave up your aisle seat for the middle. You’re trapped now.
Ten minutes later, the plane was still at the gate. It had not moved an inch. And Charlie was still trapped in his middle throne of hell. No armrest to speak of, and a big meaty leg spread up against his own. He had thought a dozen times about asking the new guy to switch with him, explaining that he had made a mistake and would now like an opportunity to correct himself. But how the hell could he do that? Who does that? And to make matters even worse, the new guy kept glancing over and smiling at him, like they were best friends now or something. Motherfucker.
So instead, he continued to stare down at his phone, wondering if she would ever respond. Finally, he couldn’t resist any longer, and his fingers found the onscreen digital keypad.
Is that all you have to say?
He hit send and then stared at that flashing sending notification and wondered what this would lead to. Nothing good, that’s for sure.
“I’m sorry, I just have to say,” the seat stealer spoke up, “that was just about the nicest thing I’ve seen in a long time. Giving up an aisle seat for the middle to a complete stranger. Honestly sir, my hat’s off to you. You just don’t see that these days.”
“No problem,” Charlie said through clenched teeth.
His phone vibrated.
Idk what else to say.
Charlie seethed. What do you mean you don’t know what else to say? How about that you never meant to hurt me, or that we’ll always be friends?
“I mean it buddy, you are a class act all the way.”
Another vibration.
I mean, saying something like we’ll always be friends or I still care about you or any of that just seems so cliche and fake, I didn’t want to do that. You know how I feel about you. You’re very important to me. You know that. And I’m not good at this kind of thing.
Oh no, that’s where you’re wrong, he thought. You’re brilliant at it. Truly, you are the Da Vinci of text break ups, Jessica. And this is your masterpiece. Fucking Mona Lisa.
That wasn’t a text break up, he reminded himself, you broke up five months ago …
“Folks, it appears there is some kind of issue out on the runway, so we’re just gonna stay here for a few more minutes. Please remain in your seats, do not go to the bathroom.”
Trapped. Charlie was trapped. Fucked. Dead.
“I mean, you don’t understand how much I hate the middle seat. I loathe it. I had meant to get here earlier just so I could make sure I got an aisle, or even a window, but you know how traffic is. Thanks again man, really.”
Charlie closed his eyes and tried to block out the words of this blithering idiot next to him. Inside, the ache was worse than ever. It overwhelmed him. An image flashed in his mind of him and Jessica together in his bed, holding each other, her staring into his eyes, whispering “Oh, I love you,” in that playful tone she liked to use as if she was just figuring it out for the first time.
Charlie realized he was moaning now. Literally tiny pitiful moans were escaping from his lips. He opened his eyes and found that the Dude Bro was asleep, still hogging the armrest and snoring like an asshole, but the happy idiot on his right, the seat stealer, was wide awake and looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Charlie smiled awkwardly before returning to his phone and sending out a text laced with sarcasm.
Dammit, why did I send that? he thought, seconds later. He stared at the texts on the phone. The last six filled the screen and he hated all of them. He thought about how many texts there had been between him and Jessica. How many texts filled a year and a half? Thousands? Tens of thousands? How many flirty little comments were hidden in there? How many inside jokes, silly emojis? How many “I love you’s? How long would it take him to scroll all the way up to their very first one, the one that would start the path that would eventually end with him here, trapped.
Despite his best efforts, his mind went back to how they first met. She and some of her friends had come into his bar while he was working. Charlie remembered having them pegged as college girls even before they ordered a round of mojitos. He also remembered how taken he had been with her, something about the way she looked at him, something about the way she smiled. He could tell immediately that she was a beautiful, warm creature.
And so by the end of the night, after some good laughs, they exchanged numbers.
Then what happened? He wondered. It was all a blur after that. One date became three, three became ten. And before he knew it, they were a thing. An effortless thing. It was the easiest relationship he had ever been in. Just fit like a glove. They only had a year together. She was a senior, and had already accepted a big time job offer from one of the major stock companies in Manhattan once she graduated. Charlie couldn’t help but laugh. After all this time it still made him chuckle. Him, a starving artist bartender with a great disdain for all things capitalism, falling for some hot shot math genius who loved numbers and Wall Street more than anything.
They truly were an odd couple.
An odd, effortless couple.
He remembered their first night together, lying in bed after the fun. He remembered them agreeing that this couldn’t turn serious because she would only be here a year before moving to New York. Perfect, Charlie remembered thinking at the time, all fun, no stress.
And so they enjoyed their year together. A single year, just one full rotation on the carousel. One Halloween, one New Year’s Eve, one Valentine’s Day.
Appreciate it while you can.
And they did.
And he did.
At least, he thought he had at the time. But now, thinking about it, as that dull, hard ache churned inside him, he wondered if he appreciated it enough. For a whole year he had the sun next to him. This beautiful entity that gave him nothing but warmth and support. And love. Had he ever had that before? It didn’t seem like it. To him, sitting trapped on this plane now, it seemed very clear that this had been a new experience for him. And what seemed even more clear was that he could have treasured that experience more. He knew he only had a year… why didn’t he cherish it more?
“Sorry folks, it’s gonna just be a few more minutes here, until they can clear up the problems on the runway”.
Of course they had discussed the idea of continuing their thing after she left. Of him moving up there or her coming back after a time. But they both knew it was just talk. Charlie hated New York with a passion, especially Manhattan and Wall Street. And Jessica, well, her life and soul were in numbers and all that, and they both knew there was only one city for that.
No, it was only going to be for one year. That was clear to both of them.
And so, the summer came, and she left. And they both agreed that it was only logical that they start seeing other people. But even after she left, they continued to text. Everyday, multiple times a day. She would tell him about her trials and tribulations in her new high stressed life, and he would tell her about all the assholes he had to deal with in the quarter. And neither one spoke of their romantic life, but it was obvious that neither one had much to talk about. They missed each other so damn much.
But you knew that wouldn’t last forever…
Charlie sighed and looked out the portal just beyond the snoring Dude Bro. At first it seemed like the same sight you see outside every airport. Planes taking off in the distance. Those little driving karts in the foreground, hauling mountains of luggage from one place to the other, the workers with the bright vests walking around, using their special flashlight things to direct the planes. But then Charlie spotted one of the workers who was doing something kind of funny. He didn’t appear to be actually working at the moment, probably because he had nothing to do until whatever issue on the runway was fixed. So instead he was just standing there. Except, he wasn’t just standing there. He was dancing. He was dancing in a way where his feet never left their place on the pavement, but his hips, shoulders and arms made fun, quick movements. But what really caught Charlie’s eye was the worker’s face. Charlie was close enough to see that it was not a face of joy. This was not a man dancing in happiness. It was a tired face, a rather sad face, with sad eyes. Perhaps due to a long day at work, not enough sleep last night, or maybe, just maybe, trouble at home. Whatever the reason it really seemed to Charlie like this worker was trying to fight his sadness with his dance. Like maybe if his body started to move in a fun way the rest of him would catch the fever. Charlie realized he had never felt more connected to a complete stranger in his entire life than he did now. And looking at him trying to dance his sadness away, Charlie found it gave him a certain peace.
And then, out of nowhere, a small and slender hand and arm appeared, popping out from behind the window seat in the row in front of him. It was the arm of a tiny child, Charlie realized, no more than two or three. And no sooner had Charlie identified the arm, than the hand grabbed a hold of the window blind and pulled it down in a blaze of speed.
Giggles followed. Innocent, child giggles. Charlie had never hated the sound of something more in his life. He quickly reached over his slumbering neighbor and shoved the blind back up with a touch of violence. But that fucking little hand immediately returned and pulled it right back down.
And then, giggles. Fucking giggles.
Charlie threw the blinds right back up, causing the hand to return. And the giggles.
This motherfucker thinks this is a game.
The fourth time that little hand came back, Charlie lost himself and gave it a good slap, causing it to withdraw to its home in the next row.
And then the plane echoed with the sounds of a sobbing baby.
“What’s wrong, Joshua?” the voice of a concerned mother asked.
Charlie could feel eyes on him. He looked over and found the seat stealer looking at him like he was a monster. Charlie gave him a devilish smile.
Not such a nice guy now, am I? I slap children and get mad at amazing women who haven’t done anything wrong. Eat it!
“Did one of you hit my child?!” a deranged voice cried out as a frantic mother’s face rose above the back of the window seat in the row in front of them.
Charlie pretended to be busy on his phone, acting like he didn’t hear her. But of course, that’s when he found a new message waiting for him from Jessica.
So you’re gonna be a child about this?
“I said, did one of you hit my child?!”
Seems so.
“Listen lady,” the Dude Bro next to him spoke, “I was just napping when your kid’s crying woke me up. Nobody hit your fucking kid, kids cry.”
Charlie knew he couldn’t pretend like he didn’t hear that, so he looked up just to see the mother’s reaction, which was about as horrified as Charlie had imagined.
“Well,” the mother said, after gathering herself, “he says he got hit, and my baby doesn’t lie.”
“Get the fuck out of here with that, all kids lie. He probably got his finger pinched between the window and the closer thing, just relax.”
“Is there a problem here?” a flight attendant said as she approached the growing kerfuffle.
“Yes,” the outraged mother sneered, “somebody back here hit my child!”
Charlie could see more faces turning toward them now, this was becoming a thing.
“No one hit anyone,” the bro argued, “the stupid kid was reaching back here and playing with our window and hurt himself. If she had better control of her kid, it wouldn’t have happened.”
“My child says he got hit and he doesn’t lie.”
The flight attendant stared at the group of them. Charlie could tell by the expression on her face that she didn’t want to deal with any of this shit.
“Ma’am, I’m sure whatever happened was an accident. Please keep your child in his seat as we prepare for take off.”
“And when will that be anyways,” the Dude Bro barked, “we’ve been sitting around here for like a half hour now, what the hell is going on.”
“Just a few more minutes,” the flight attendant promised, before darting back to her safety zone at the end of the plane behind the curtains.
Charlie looked over to the window again. The dancing worker was gone, and he felt that dark ache in his heart present now more than ever. Please go away, he begged. I don’t need this. This is so illogical.
Yes, that was exactly what it was, he told himself. Illogical. Focus on that. Focus on why it’s stupid to be this sad.
So he went through it all over again, about how they hadn’t seen each other in months, how they both agreed to see other people.
Why the hell didn’t you see other people then? He scolded himself. But that wasn’t fair, Charlie had, sort of. But it was more like the occasional fun night with someone, maybe a date or two, nothing special. The truth was, he hadn’t found anyone that fit him so well as Jessica, no one who made things so effortless.
And then the dark ache really started to make its presence known as the truth hit him. She had found someone else. She let him go because she found someone special, someone real. She wouldn’t have texted him if that wasn’t the case. Charlie put his head in his hands and tried not to think about her and her new guy together, but of course that’s exactly what he thought about.
I blew it, he realized. I should have just moved to New York. I should have chased her.
But then, through the pain, an ounce of hope came to him.
Maybe it’s not too late, I’m at the airport for christ’s sake. The plane is still at the gate. I could jump out of my seat right now, demand they let me out, race to one of the airline counters and buy a ticket to New York. The ultimate romantic gesture. How serious could things be with her new guy? We were in love for fuck’s sake, surely this new guy couldn’t come close to that. It’s not too late. This could be the story we tell our grandchild fifty years from now. About how I stopped time and moved the world for the one I loved.
He looked over at the seat stealer next to him and gave him a cold, determined stare, as if to say watch out motherfucker. Any second now, I might just climb over you, flee down the aisle and grab Destiny by the balls.
This look seemed to concern the seat stealer, who fidgeted awkwardly in his seat as he glanced away and then back to Charlie.
This continued for some time, with Charlie staring at his neighbor, waiting for his own body to jump up and act heroically.
But it never happened.
The moment came and went and Charlie remained seated. That was the damn misery of it, he realized. This wasn’t one of those romances that would end in forever. It was something just below that. Something that would come and go, bringing a good deal of joy and pain in the process. And now, Charlie was stuck in the pain. Trapped.
“The captain has asked for me to thank you all for your patience, and to let you know it’s still going to be a few more minutes.”
Charlie’s phone buzzed again.
Also, so, I don’t know how to say this, but, there’s another reason why I’m telling you this now. I’m going to London tomorrow for vacation, and I’m taking him with me. I just wanted to give you a heads up before you saw pics on fb.
Charlie felt the ache in his heart turn into something much darker.
Pure, unadulterated rage.
She’s taking him to London?! It’s that serious?! How the fuck is that possible?! She said this was a recent thing? How could this be? To think he was about to get off this plane and stop the world and move the heavens and raise Hell to get to her. How could she do this to me?!
Charlie twisted in his seat. The muscles in his arms tense and flaring, ready to just punch the shit out of the back of the chair in front of him. He thought of what she said at the end of the text, about the pics on Facebook, and he bit down on his bottom lip so hard he almost bled.
The entire time we dated she never once allowed a pic of the two of them together on any social media. Not once. Now with this new guy she wants to show the whole world their happiness?! How could she do this?
He began poking at his phone with furious fingers, typing out his detailed opinion of this latest revelation. Once he had finished, his finger hovered over the send button. Every part of him was telling him to send this, and yet, something held him back.
He bit his lip again. He wished he had someone to talk to about this. He thought about maybe calling his mom, or a friend from back home, but he didn’t want to do that. Once the people in his world knew, that would make it real. He wasn’t ready for that. He recalled the attractive mother four rows down and wished that he had chosen to sit next to her. He bet she would be willing to talk to him. Mothers have big hearts and good advice. He really wished he had that now. Instead, he had the Dude Bro and the blithering seat stealer.
He looked over at the Dude Bro, who was lost on his own phone, and said, “Fucking women, am I right…”
The bro looked over at him with a confused look, so Charlie clarified by motioning to his own phone and repeating his statement with a bit more anger.
“Fucking women, am I right…”
Now the Dude Bro seemed to understand, nodding his head aggressively.
“Bro, don’t even get me started. Lemme tell you, ‘cause I think I might be a little older than you, I’ve been around the block, Here’s what you need to know. Women aren’t serious people. That’s their problem. Nothing is serious with them, they can’t comprehend Serious. That’s why they act so irrationally. That’s why they act like bitches and toy with hearts. I’ve seen too many friends wrecked by women, cause they ain’t serious. That’s why I don’t treat ‘em serious. Hump ‘em and dump ‘em, man, I’m telling you.”
Charlie nodded at this, letting these words soak into his rage.
His phone buzzed.
I’m not lying. We weren’t a thing until a few weeks ago, but I’ve known him for a long time. He’s a family friend.
“You’re totally right,” Charlie told his neighbor.
“I know I am. I’m telling you, if you think a woman these days knows a damn thing about loyalty, you’re kidding yourself. These bitches don’t know loyalty. It doesn’t matter to them. They want what they want and that’s it.”
“Fucking right,” Charlie agreed again, spinning the idea of loyalty and women around in his head while thinking about Jessica’s last text.
His finger found the Send button, and his already-typed-out vile response began its digital journey to somewhere in Manhattan.
At first doing this felt good; it fed his rage. It felt like he was taking control. See how she likes that. But soon that dark joy faded as he realized the opposite was true. He was losing control. His emotions were overtaking him and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He closed his eyes and prayed for the plane to go. Please take off. Take off and take away my cell service before she replies, before I send more texts, before things turn horrible.
But the plane remained stuck at the gate. And his phone buzzed.
I’m sorry Charlie.
He stared down at this three word response and felt a new wave of anger. That’s it? I’m sorry? That’s all you can say after all we’ve been through.
He thought of a million nasty things he could say until he found the one he thought would make her feel the most guilty.
Why are you so eager to share pics of him, but you never were with me?
He knew the answer to this unfair question, but that didn’t stop him from sending it.
“When the fuck are we gonna go?” the Dude Bro snarled next to him while taking up even more of the armrest.
His phone buzzed again.
You know the answer to that.
Charlie actually scoffed out loud at this. Oh yes, he knew the answer. Because of her parents. Because of her family out on the east coast. They wouldn’t approve of them, because of the age difference. She had explained that to him a number of times while they dated. At the time, he didn’t really care much about it. But now… now, he realized this was further proof that she never really loved him at all. He had just been a warm body for her to cuddle with until graduation.
He sent back another acidic text.
And of course, it wasn’t just the age. That was something she never said, but he knew it to be true. It was the age plus him. Who he was. Him being some poor loser bartender in a shit city, claiming to be an “artist”. Of course her family wouldn’t approve. He wasn’t a serious match for Jessica, just some fun to be had before returning to the East Coast and getting Real.
He thought of the new guy now, the Facebook-approved guy. If he was social media worthy, it meant he was a Serious Man. Definitely younger, more dignified, and with a real career. Probably works in the same office building as this Dude Bro next to him.
God damn it, what the fuck is going on with me? Get control!
“For those of you looking for an update, that captain says it’s just going to be a few more minutes before takeoff.”
“Oooh,” the seat stealer squealed. Charlie looked over and found him reading one of the menus from the pouch in front of them. “It says here, you can order a gin and soda for only seven dollars. That’ll hit the spot.”
Charlie stared at his neighbor with contempt.
“Just shut up already. This is all your fault anyway, so the least you can do is shut up.”
The seat stealer looked slightly hurt and confused by this, but said nothing and went on reading the menu.
Charlie’s phone buzzed in his pocket.
“Come on Charlie, don’t say that, you know why I’m doing this. You know how hard these five months have been for me. Eighty hour work weeks, zero social life, lots of loneliness, and a steady depression. My friends, my family, everyone knows how miserable I’ve been. They’re worried about me. So I want to show that I’m doing better now. I want to share my happiness. It’s important to me. And I don’t think I should have to censor myself just to protect your feelings.”
Great,she’s going to make all this worse by making sound, logical points.
How fucked up is that?
His phone buzzed again.
“Charlie, of course I loved you. I still do. You know that. But we knew it would end this way. I’ll still be in your life. We’re just gonna be a little sad for awhile.”
Charlie actually laughed out loud at this. It was a nasty, spiteful laugh.
We? Fucking we? No, “we” are not going to be sad, I AM. YOU have moved on. You’re safe. You’re taking vacations in Europe and having fun all the time. I’m the one who has to be alone. I am the one who has to deal with this.
Charlie felt his eyes getting hot. Just a few moments ago furious strength surged through his body and he felt like he could rip the entire plane apart, and yet now he felt completely drained of life.
I’m sorry Charlie. I’ll always love you.
Charlie crumbled inside, exhausted. He put a limp finger to the screen and gave in.
I’ll always love you too. Have fun in London.
He watched as the sending notification came and went. Inside him, he felt ever so slightly better. Maybe, he hoped, maybe he was coming out of this.
And then the plane started moving and a smattering of applause went off around him.
“About fucking time,” the Dude Bro said.
Damn straight.
A minute later, the plane came to a stop. Then the captain’s voice echoed through the PA system.
“Folks this is your captain speaking. There seems to be something wrong with the landing gear, I’m afraid we’ll have to turn around and head back to the gate and get a mechanic to check things out. So it’s gonna be a few more minutes on the ground.”
The entire plane let out a collective moan, except for Charlie. He hadn’t even heard the captain speaking, because for no apparent reason, an image had popped into his head. It was of Jessica and her new guy, in London, in bed, cuddling in some fancy hotel room together, completely happy. He didn’t hear a word the captain said, as the ache took him over, and a new form of rage surfaced that completely outmatched the last batch and poisoned his mind.
How the fuck could she do this to me?! That fucking bitch! She said she loved me! Who could do this to someone they love! How can she just go off to London and be happy with someone else, leaving me trapped here! How can she do this to me?!
As the plane made its slow turn back to the airgate, Charlie caught the sight of a worker outside his window in the distance. He squinted his eyes. He wanted it to be that sad dancing worker from before, he wanted him to be dancing now, wanted him to give him that peace from before. But before he could tell whether it was the same worker or not, a now familiar small arm came out from behind the window seat ahead of him and shut the blinds closed.
Charlie slumped in his chair and let out something that was between a sigh and a moan. He could feel the Dude Bro and the seat stealer next to him squirming in their seats, anxious to get out of this current nightmare.
Settle in boys, Charlie thought to himself, this plane ain’t taking off any time soon.
