Airplanes

It was my ex-girlfriend, who I affectionately referred to as Angel, who taught me the simple fact that people can’t solve problems they can’t see. I’m not sure if it was she or I who came to this conclusion, but I do know that this stuck with me the lines, “I can’t understand you if you won’t let me,” and “No one can fix what you feel inside if you don’t let them in.” In short, you need to be willing to let someone help you before they can help you.

“I don’t understand,” she said. I started pulling my bags out if the trunk of the car as she emerged from the driver’s seat. I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t bring myself to. She placed her hand on my arm, “Why won’t you just talk to me?” She asked. I hid my pain behind jet black sunglasses.
“I’m tired of trying to explain things to you,” I said, “It’s hopeless, and a waste of my time.” She removed her hand.
“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me,” she said. I slammed the trunk and started for the doors to the airport. She left the car in the unloading zone and followed.
“Is this about Sarah?” She asked. I turned to her, not sure exactly what to say.
“It’s more than that,” I said. We were about ten feet apart. I closed the gap a bit, “Each and every time I bring her up, you shut down and push me away,” I said. She started tearing up. I made a cold decision and started walking away. She followed.
“I just don’t expect you to understand me,” she said. That’s when I lost it. I dropped my briefcase and swerved to face her.
“I can’t understand if you don’t give me the chance to understand!” I snapped. She stopped. We lingered for a moment before I grabbed my briefcase and continued towards the metal bird that would take me away from her, forever. I didn’t hear her crying. A world full of distractions blocked her out, and in no time at all, I was a part of the world of distractions.