Flight 126
Two/Two
I don’t think I’ll ever forget that day. Ever. Countless times I’ve set foot in airports, but never has such a place meant so much to me. It’s something about home, it’s something about her. I remember the time we spent together while I was back in Joplin. Walking down streets, hand in hand, surrounded by crowds of people passing by. Of all the performances on all of the stages, never have a felt more comfortable in a river of unknown faces.
I remember the last night before I had to leave again, laying beside her under a pile of blankets and wishing that I would never have to wake up. I remember standing in that airport, suitcase in hand, and feeling a piece of my heart break. When she sent me off that last time, I knew that goodbye meant something more than “see you next time.” This was goodbye, forever. I regret everything after that, boarding that flight and staying on tour was the worst decision I’ve ever made. I went from sleeping in my car to sleeping next to the girl I loved, and I gave that up to sleep in some hotel room, alone.
So this time, when I run off the plane wearing my stupid fake moustache, ridiculous cowboy hat, red bandana, and outdated bolo tie, she won’t be there. And even though crowds of people will stare at me and my ridiculous get-up, not a single one of those people will have her eyes. Not a single one of them will be her.
I should’ve seen it coming. I shouldn’t have expected her to hang around in Joplin forever, waiting for a plane that may never land. I must admit, that it’s strange to think about it; me without her, and getting off this plane and going to a house that she doesn’t live in anymore.
If ever there was some god out there, somewhere, with some sort of hope for me, I’d pray that he’d give me some sort of strength. Because I just remembered, that when I step off of this plane - Flight 126, Austin to Joplin - she’s not going to be there. I really wish I could forget that.
I remember the last night before I had to leave again, laying beside her under a pile of blankets and wishing that I would never have to wake up. I remember standing in that airport, suitcase in hand, and feeling a piece of my heart break. When she sent me off that last time, I knew that goodbye meant something more than “see you next time.” This was goodbye, forever. I regret everything after that, boarding that flight and staying on tour was the worst decision I’ve ever made. I went from sleeping in my car to sleeping next to the girl I loved, and I gave that up to sleep in some hotel room, alone.
So this time, when I run off the plane wearing my stupid fake moustache, ridiculous cowboy hat, red bandana, and outdated bolo tie, she won’t be there. And even though crowds of people will stare at me and my ridiculous get-up, not a single one of those people will have her eyes. Not a single one of them will be her.
I should’ve seen it coming. I shouldn’t have expected her to hang around in Joplin forever, waiting for a plane that may never land. I must admit, that it’s strange to think about it; me without her, and getting off this plane and going to a house that she doesn’t live in anymore.
If ever there was some god out there, somewhere, with some sort of hope for me, I’d pray that he’d give me some sort of strength. Because I just remembered, that when I step off of this plane - Flight 126, Austin to Joplin - she’s not going to be there. I really wish I could forget that.