Sometimes It Just Feels Better to Give In

I started off in a quick stroll.

I didn’t want to necessarily run away from this, because that would be unfair. Not only to me, but everyone I was leaving behind. This was life, you had to take what was given to you and deal with it. Sometimes we can make changes though, leave the life that was meant for us or was previously created and start anew. Or run backwards, whatever the prerogative was.

There were voices behind, some whispering, and others just full out berating me. I was waiting for someone, anyone, to just get in my face and tell me off. At the same time I was afraid though, but it’s not like I didn’t expect it.

At this point, I’m running.

With the doors thrown open and the sun from outside beating down on me, I suddenly felt hot. It was my attire that was affecting me, seeing as how I was wearing all black. This little addition was definitely not my choice, but then again the last couple decisions of mine weren’t consented to by me.

Where was I supposed to turn to? Where was I going to go? I knew why I did this; there was only one real reason:

And that’s Miami.

I needed a phone.

--

The bartender thought I was a little crazy when I ran into his establishment, rushed, sweating, dressed in a suit and asking for a phone. I mean really, it’s the 21st century, who doesn’t have a cell phone? But I didn’t, and why you may ask? Because I left it in the godforsaken church, seeing as how you kind of can’t bring it to the altar.

I had just called the local company when someone stepped into the bar, dressed the same as I only with a little blue flower on his lapel. Face all scruffy, he looked distressed, unhappy and downright annoyed.

“Adam, are you out of your mind?” Was the first thing Fred Mascherino said to me when our eyes met, but I just rolled mine in response.

“Do you really have to ask?” I stood up, thanked the bartender for his service, and headed towards the door.

“Dude, just come back in the church and we can start all over. Mel’s really upset, and you know when she’s upset Dorinda gets upset too…that freaky twin thing. They’re all going crazy in there.”

“That’s fastidious,” I tried to step aside him, on that note. Couldn’t he see I don’t care?

“Wha…what’s your problem?” Fred grabbed my shoulder to fight him, and I tried to brush him off.

“Unhand me!” I yelled and pushed him away. “I’ve got a cab coming for me, and then I’ve got to get to the airport.”

He followed me outside, “Airport? Where the hell are you going?”

I looked around for the small yellow vehicle and answered, “Miami.”

He was silent for a little and muttered, “You can’t be serious.”

I turned away from the street to face him, “No, you can’t be serious Fred. This is what I’ve wanted to do. I don’t want to marry Melinda.”

“You couldn’t have decided this before the start of the wedding, or maybe 6 months ago?!” He exclaimed. God, he was being so over dramatic, with the hands in the hair and the pulling at it and everything. Completely unnecessary. Couldn’t he see I was perfectly fine with this?

“No,” I simply answered. “I need to do this, man. I have to go to Miami.”

“It’s not going to do anything,” he said, apparently trying to change my mind. “You can fly to the ends of the earth and apologize for days, but it’s not going to change what you did. To her, and now to Melinda.”

The cab had finally shown up, “All I can do is try.”

And with that we headed straight for the airport, Fred’s confused and distraught face just a backdrop of the rear view mirror. I didn’t want to be too Adam Sandler typical, and burst through the airport, looking for the front desk and asking for a ticket – just to have to take first class.

No, I wanted to graciously walk in and calmly ask for a ticket to Miami, receive it for x amount of dollars, and get on my flight.

Except this is the real world, and the crap Adam Sandler creates happens everyday.

The whole cab ride to the airport, all I could think of was Miami. How was I even going to do this, just fly in and swoop you out from under your feet? I never had that type of luck, for all I know you could be on your way to helping children with AIDS in Africa, and I could be too late.

I needed to take this chance though. I’d made too many mistakes in my life, one of which was the biggest was the one I made with you. I needed to do this; deep down inside I knew it was true.

Why did I do this to myself? I messed my own shit up, just to realize at the last minute what I needed. What it is that keeps me going, keeps my blood pumping and the air in my lungs. It sounds a little far fetched, a little too good to be true, but I know what that’s like. I know what it’s like to wake up every morning and think of one thing and one thing only, no matter what else is going on in my life. To the sun beating down my face, who it is I desire to be beside me in my heart and beside my body at night was the reason I sat in this dingy cab.

There was no guarantee that I’d find you, but that was I:
Adam Lazzara, full of crazy ideas.

When we arrived I threw the money through the small space to the cab and told him to keep all the extra change. Lucky me had put my wallet in my pocket, and I was glad I hadn’t put my phone in now. After what Fred said, I didn’t need any more interruptions, or distractions.

The sun was the same outside of the airport that it was outside between the church and the bar. I wish I had changed my clothes, I probably should’ve, but I didn’t have any time. When I entered the airport, the air was cooler, less tense, and no one looked as troubled as I did.

Which I guess was okay, because it gave me the chance to look like a freakin’ idiot in front of all of these random people. I was dressed in a suit, sweating, looking like I’d just come off the set of Men in Black, hair dirty and all over the place.

And I needed a cigarette.

A large wall had a bunch of televisions attached, stating all the times and planes and where they were going. There was one airline, American Airlines that had about 3 flights going to Miami.

Every hour, on the hour.

I looked at the clocks on another wall that had the times of all these big name cities and the current time where we were now. Miami had about the same time, which meant I had to get a move on to get my ticket purchased or else I’d have to wait another hour to get there.

But where would I start? There was a long row of desks, all with a different lady or guy seated behind, dealing out tickets and taking baggages. I didn’t have a bag, or a ticket, and I wasn’t sure where to buy one. So I’d just start at the desk in front of me, which had no line in front of it, and ask for a ticket. Pretty good idea, right?

Wrong.

I wasn’t even at the right airline (British Airways), and the very kind lady with a pretty funny accent told me to go down the row of the desks to the airline I was looking for, and buy a ticket there.

So like a madman, a bat outta hell if you will, I ran down the line, frantically checking the signs above (who knew those were there) to see if I was there yet. I had about 10 minutes, no more or less to find this desk, buy a ticket, and get through security and all that crap and get on my plane.

Or yet another hour would have to wait, an hour wasted until I could find you.

The bright red and blue words American Airlines finally appeared before me, and much to the people of the airport’s contentment, I slowed down. But, much to my chagrin, there was a huge line in front, filled with large ladies, crying babies, a couple old people, and full families.

Only thing I could do was cut in front of all of them to the front of the line, and beg and plead with the lady to please give me a one-way ticket to Miami. For some reason, although she was unhappy (like everyone behind me) that I had cut the line, she realized the time and quickly gave me a ticket.

This is where the second running sequence comes in, of me running past all of the people again to find my gate, get through security (had to cut in front of people again) and finally make it to the desk to show my ticket that had been bought and verified but 10 minutes before. The gruff, deep voiced guy at the gate gave me a look, something crossed between a dirty one and a look of disgust, and ushered me on the plane.

“You just made it,” he told me.

--

Only god could tell me why I was running again.

For some reason though, I felt compelled to run through the airport. No, not for the adrenaline rush or anything, but because a small voice in the back of my head was saying I wasn’t safe thus far. Sure, I was in Miami, but I hadn’t found you yet, and like I had said before, I had no idea where you were. You could be anywhere, but Miami was the first place I was going to look. Miami’s a big place though, and there were no guarantees.

Which is why I was frustrated that no cab was picking me up, outside of the airport. I mean I do understand it’s a little difficult with the loading dock and the drop off dock at the same place, but I obviously looked like I was in hurry. Still, nothing, and that obligated me to throw the little cart that carried the luggage somewhere, anywhere, as an expression of my anger.

“Oy!” You yelled, before I recognized your face. I must’ve thrown it pretty far. “Watch where you’re throwing shit, you almost hit me!”

Eyes meeting for the first time in what seemed like forever, yours opened wide in shock.

‘They had?’

Yes.

“Adam, what the hell are you doing here?” Your hair had gotten a little redder since I had last seen you, but I knew that must’ve been a reaction to all the sun you’ve been getting.

“Looking for you,” I said softly.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in a church right now, getting married?”

“That’s what I thought…do you have a cigarette?”

And that’s what got us to this place, sitting on this bench outside of the airport. You were about to go in, and I was about to leave – and somehow we bumped into each other.

I smoked quietly, elbows resting on my legs, right before my knees, deep in thought. “Where were you going?”

A shrug, “To you.”

“Why?”

“I was invited, remember?”

I scoffed and took another drag, feeling the only other thing in the world that could kill me enter my lungs, “You were gonna be late.”

“I would’ve made the reception,” another shrug. You curled your hair behind your ear. “Why were you here?”

“I walked out,” I simply answered, watching the people walk in and out of their cars, hug their loved ones goodbye or hello, and enter or exit the airport.

“What for?”

“Thought I’d catch some sun,” I told you, sarcasm lacing my voice like cocaine-laced marijuana. “Maybe some waves. Take a trip to Disney World.”

“Tell me the truth,” I could hear the determination in your voice, and feel it in your eyes on my face. “And nothing but that, you owe me that much.”

I couldn’t deny that. “The truth ain’t nothin’ but a good excuse.” There I go again.

”It might help you out,” you told me, not before rolling your eyes at my statement. “It’s done it before, since you can never seem to tell the truth often.”

I ignored you, “I don’t know if I can Amy…” Notorious liar, remember? “All the shit that I’ve done in the past to you…it’s been torturing me for so long. I can’t even believe half of the shit I’ve said, because it’s not me. But I did it and I said it and you left me and that’s that.”

“So why are you here?” The softest I’ve ever heard you.

“I…I couldn’t do it,” I admitted. “I couldn’t marry her, with you still down here, without me. You know why I’m here, Amy. As soon as I heard those bells, as soon as she starts walking down that aisle, all and any amounts of doubt entered my mind.”

“It wasn’t the fact that I was going to do it, and have finally convinced myself that there’s no one else that scared me. It was those bells, those stupid wedding bells and knowing it wouldn’t be you under that veil. It was a blond coming towards me, and I knew I wasn’t going to be happy.”

“How am I supposed to believe you?” You said quietly, and when I looked at you, you were looking away. I tossed my now stub of a cigarette, and stepped on it to smother out the flame. Sitting up straight, I guided you by your chin to look at me and sighed when our eyes met, yours coated over in tears.

“You just have to trust me,” I said, looking straight into your eyes. My thumb grazed over your chin tenderly as I watched your eyes dance across my face rapidly.

“But Adam, after everything that’s gone on…I don’t know if I can. Not again.”

“Please don’t…stop me, cause I know you’ve heard this before: but I’ve changed.” I just hoped you believed me. “Whoever I was then, I can’t ever be again.”

“You have to prove it to me,” you said.

I smiled a little, “I’ll try my best.”

It felt so good to be in Miami.