Fall of Rome

The first thought that ran through my head that morning was a question of why Dylan wasn’t lying beside me, but then I remembered everything and it came flooding back to me like a tsunami that washed over my entire body and drowned me until I came back to the surface gasping for air.

There was something so beautiful and gentle about those few moments before I remembered everything again, and I knew that those moments would be what I would look forward to until everything else sorted itself out.

There was the sound of bacon sizzling on the skillet the kitchen, but I didn’t have any sort of appetite, so I stayed as quiet as I could so Dylan wouldn’t try to bring me breakfast. It was almost a tradition of ours for him to make me breakfast the first morning I got in, but that morning, I wanted no part of it.

Instead, I went back to my suitcase and repacked everything that Dylan and I had been unpacking the day before. It was a daunting task and it took me twice as long as I should have because I caught myself frozen more often than not. I don’t know if it was because I was lost in my thoughts or because I knew the sooner I finished packing the sooner we’d be leaving, but it was daunting.

I made sure to come out of the bedroom only half an hour before we needed to leave for the airport, and for good reason. It would give Dylan enough time to pack his things but still make sure there wouldn’t be enough time for us to have a chat about the night before, even though it seemed pointless to continue avoiding it since soon enough I’d be alone with him in a place neither of us had ever been before.

“Good morning,” Dylan said, smiling at me from the sofa as he clicked off the television. “I was hoping you’d be up soon. How’d you sleep?”

I just looked at him, biting my bottom lip as I held my suitcase behind me.

“Right, I should know that.” Dylan let out a nervous laugh as he looked down at the floor. He paused for a moment before looking back up at me. “I see you have your things together. I – uh – I guess I should get mine too.”

I just nodded and moved to the side as he slipped past me and into his bedroom. He packed much more quickly than I did, and I barely even had time to process seeing him again before he had both his and my suitcase in the trunk of his car.

The sun beat down on us both as we hopped into his mustang, the heat nearly suffocating me as I slid onto the leather seats. Dylan turned the ignition as quickly as he could to get some air flowing into the car, and as soon as he began rolling down the windows, the radio started up.

Like any piece of good technology, it started back up right where we had left, which just happened to be halfway through the CD that Dylan had made me so long ago. The sweet, hope filled song only had a few moments to crush my insides before I reached over as quickly as I could and switched it to the first radio station I could find.

Dylan seemed just as shocked as I was, and he cleared his throat briefly before he began backing out of the driveway. The drive to the airport wasn’t nearly as pleasant as the one we’d had before. It wasn’t those butterflies in my stomach that I always got the first time I saw Dylan again. Instead, it was hot, awkward and uncomfortable, which was perfect because that was exactly how I felt.

Usually when I was arriving at LAX it meant I was leaving Dylan and heading back home, so somehow my mind had begun to equate the turn into that airport with so many negative thoughts and emotions, and those new ones were not mixing well with the ones I had before.

All I wanted to do was get out of the car and get some fresh air, so when Dylan pulled up, I couldn’t get myself out the door fast enough. I took several long, deep breaths while Dylan got our bags out and did his best to pull them both through the airport, even though I tried to grab my bag myself. He had never let me carry my own things before, so I don’t know why I thought this time would be any different.

Like usual, we made it through security with plenty of time to spare, but it was better safe than sorry with that sort of thing. Now all there was to do was sit and wait for our flight to leave, so we could sit in awkward silence for another 15 hours while we waited to land in England. It was going to be an interesting trip, no doubt.

I was perfectly content with just browsing around on my phone until it was time to board, but Dylan had always been the anxious type when it came to that sort of thing. The moment he started twiddling his thumbs, I knew he wouldn’t be sitting much longer.

“You wanna go look at the shops?”

I didn’t look back at him, just shook my head while I kept looking at my phone. He let out a small sigh before standing up, stretching his legs a bit as he did. “I’ll be right back.”

He began walking away after that and I didn’t bother to look up to see where he was going. I could only hope he wouldn’t get lost because the only thing that sounded worse than a long, awkward plane ride with Dylan was one by myself.

Luckily for me, he made it back with fifteen minutes to spare. His body moved next to mine and took his seat again, while he held out a small bag in front of him.

“I got you some things,” he said, moving the bag to set it on my lap. “For the plane ride.”

I looked up at him briefly and we made eye contact for the first time in what felt like ages. The look on his face was indescribable – like some mixture between sadness and sympathy, both about me, most likely. I tried not to think about it, though, and brought my attention back down to bag.

For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to look inside yet and just wrapped my hand around it before I gave him a soft thank you. I looked at him as I said it, and that was when he smiled at me again, immediately forcing me to look away.

The intercom overhead announced that it was time to begin boarding and I was thankful for the welcome distraction. We waited in line with the rest of the guests, like nothing was wrong at all, and it was strange how easily we fit in with the rest of them.

The aisles of the plane were just two seats wide, and I couldn’t decide whether it was good or bad that Dylan and I would have a row to ourselves. He let me take the window seat while he stuck to the aisle, and three hours into the never-ending flight neither of us had said a word.

At that point, my head was such a clouded disaster that I could look out the window for those three hours straight and not feel an ounce of boredom. Being left up in my head was probably not a good thing, because all I did was think of Dylan and that awful thing he did – how badly he had hurt me. There was nothing on the plane that could distract me from those horrible thoughts at that moment.

I made sure not to cry or let my eyes water up, because the last thing I wanted was to have Dylan asking me what was wrong or even knowing how upset I was, though I wasn’t sure why.

It wasn’t long after the sun drifted over the horizon that I fell asleep and I didn’t wake up until we were over land again. Not once did I open the bag Dylan had got me, and I was certain he noticed.