The Boy Who Wore Boat Shoes

31⎜The Flight

31⎜The Flight

There were a lot of bad things about falling, but the worst was that you never knew how hard or how fast you were actually accelerating (or rather decelerating). Maybe you were jumping from a cliff into water for the thrill of it. Maybe you accidentally fell from a swing set or some monkey bars. Maybe you were pushed down a water slide. Maybe you tripped down a few stairs. Maybe you fainted. Maybe you were skydiving. Maybe you were bungee jumping. And maybe—just maybe—you were falling for someone.

           In my case, it was like a mix of bungee jumping and falling for someone—bungee jumping for someone, maybe. Not actually bungee jumping, but more metaphorically. When you were bungee jumping, generally there was an initial moment of hesitation right as you leapt off of whatever safety platform you were previously on. As a natural instinct, you regretted what you had just begun to do. Then adrenalin took over your body, and it was okay for a while. The only place you could look was down, and though your heart was beating fast, you knew somehow that it would be okay. After a while, the bungee cord would outstretch as much as it could, and then BAM! Suddenly, you were being jerked back up, only to fall down once more. You weren’t anticipating the jerk. It just happened.

           As you were falling down, though, with the bungee cord safely connected to your feet, your brain never really took the time to process how much inertia your body was exerting, or how fast you were going. Bungee jumping wasn’t in slow motion. It was sped up to the highest degree imaginable. The same could be said when falling for someone. You never really knew how swift and strong the emotions were until it was too late. Then the jerk happened, your heart began beating a little bit too fast, and you were back to falling.

           “Thank you for flying with our airline, and enjoy your flight!” said the cheery flight attendant before me. I blinked, attempting to return back to reality instead of the madness within my mind, and managed a weak smile at the woman. She seemed nice. Just because I was in a shitty mood didn’t mean that I had to project it onto the rest of the world. She gave me back my ticket. I thanked her, and continued on my way.

           There weren’t that many differences between falling for someone and bungee jumping. Both included horrible, terrible, dreadfully abysmal decisions. Both involved matters of the palpitating heart. Both implicated irrational thinking. Both incorporated signing over your life to another human being (one in the form of a waver, the other your heart). One of the main variants, however, was that bungee jumping was completely intentional, while falling for someone was not.

           You knew ahead of time (even if only a few seconds before due to a spontaneous decision) that you were going to be jumping with only a bungee cord and a harness to save you. It wasn’t unexpected, and your mind had an adequate amount of time to process how it was going to cope with the rash choice you had made to do so. With falling for someone, though, it wasn’t anticipated. You couldn’t choose who you fell for, no matter how hard you tried. It was a matter of the heart, and even if your brain fought it, the senseless sentiments would always win.

           The heart was a mysterious organ. Its sole purpose was to pump blood and keep you from dying, but occasionally, it intervened in places that it shouldn’t have. When the heart and your mind got tangled up, there was no telling what could happen. You could fall for someone, they could do something unimaginable to you, and then your heart could still tell you deep inside that it didn’t matter—you cared for them, and you were in the midst of falling for them. There was nothing you could do about it. It wasn’t in your control.

           I came to the end of the collapsible corridor, my only belongings being a backpack and its contents. There was a middle-aged couple standing in a clump before me, their two teenaged kids complaining about how much they hated flying and that they wouldn’t have cell reception during the entirety of the flight. The family eventually got around to boarding the actual aircraft, and then it was my turn.