The Meeting

The Letter

My Alex,

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write, I wanted to be sure I included everything.

Can we go back to the beginning?

The first time I saw you, sitting in that seat on that plane I wanted to talk to you. I remember you said it had been a terrible trip and I nodded, out of nervousness, which caused you to be quiet. I was annoyed at myself for not uttering words because then you would've had to answer me. I sat for two whole hours trying to decide what I would say if you woke up, instead I just told you I was thinking of buying you a teddy, real smooth Leah. I knew you knew who I was, but you didn't make a thing of it. You treated me like a normal human and that meant a lot to me.
When you told me about your trip away, what you did for a living, I thought you couldn't get anymore perfect. You were passionate about what you did, you wanted to inspire people and you were so interested in music that you spent hours writing songs even though you didn't know if anyone else but you would ever hear them.

As the captain made his announcement, I panicked and I know I was heading for a panic attack. Anxiety has always been something I have dealt with, since I was young. It has shaped me in many ways, some good and some bad. There was one thing that could bring me out of those attacks before they began and that was your touch. I knew that from that day. You held me like my life depended on it, like I was the only person that was afraid. When we landed, everyone else was happy because we had landed safely and obviously I was too, but part of me was gutted that I couldn't hold onto you any longer.

I watched you walk off that day, I looked for tweets of 'just held the England captain because she was terrified on the plane!' but you didn't do that. You promised me you wouldn't tell anyone and you meant it. When you didn't board the plane the next morning, I searched for you. I went to the toilet at the front, then the toilet at the back hoping to catch a glimpse of you. I don't know what I would've said if I had. Maybe I would've said nothing, I'm like that. I tend to allow things to pass me by for fear of being embarrassed or making myself look like a fool. I hate that about myself.

I searched for you, I found you on Instagram and as I looked through your profile I loved that you posted photos of your handwritten song lyrics, scenic pictures of places you travelled to and pictures with your family. There were very little pictures of you that weren't zoomed completely out, I didn't understand that because you were the most beautiful person I had ever met.

Once I came across the poster for the festival, I knew I had to go. Not in a stalkerish way, in the way that even if you didn't think about me, you deserved a thank you for all that you had done for me. My mum knew, she knew all along. We watched you sing and play your guitar, I watched as your hands relaxed from the tremors that you had when you first stepped onstage. I watched your eyes close when you sang a line that you felt in your heart. I wondered if you had noticed me, I'm not sure if you did. I never wanted to ask you that.

I remember as you finished your set, you used the line 'look after yourself, you're the only one that will always have your best interests at heart'. It pained me that you related to that line so much. You deserved someone that always had your best interests at heart.

I watched you speak to your Dad that night, I watched how you comforted him as he was emotional, at that point I thought this was because he was proud of you. When you had finished talking, I placed my hand on your shoulder, I wanted to keep it there but I knew I couldn't. Not yet. You were so polite and welcoming to my mum. Your smile lighting up our table, making my heart explode every time you laughed.

When my mum left to get the drinks, I thought I'd tell you how upset I was that you weren't on the plane home but when you seemed surprised and awkward, I felt awful for making you uncomfortable. I tried to retract my statement, once again my worst trait of anxiousness shining through. I saw the hurt in your face when I done that, I knew I'd messed up but it was too late to take it back. I knew when you left that I had made a mess of things. That's when I followed you on Instagram. You followed me back right away, despite being rejected by me just hours before. You didn't play mind games by waiting a few hours and I liked that.