I am his, and he his mine • cmbyn (DISCONTINUED)

☼twenty nine☼

I went through the airport with ease. No one gave me any trouble and no one got in my way. Once I got to my gate I sat down with my luggage at a seat that was far away from many people.

I slid on my Walkman and looked around at the old locals of this run down town. All the people here looked the same, they were all old and cracked, they were all wise looking, and they were all happy. They've lived such a mediocre life, I'm sure halve of them have never set foot out of Italy and are probably only at the airport to go to their few towns over. But somehow, old Italian locals were the happiest people I've ever met. They all met the love of their life in their little town and created a life with them. I envy how simple it is for them.

I closed my eyes and sighed while slouching in my uncomfortable seat. Was I doing the right thing? The first day was going to be about 2 weeks after I get there, was that going to be enough time? Of course it will be, I was just nervous. I already missed everything about Italy even though I haven't even left yet. I didn't want to do this, I didn't want to leave my home and go out to another country for university. I could have done just fine without a degree.

I thought of Oliver. This was the airport he came from, the first time. What was he thinking when he came here in his kakis and blue button down that was now mine? Did he have any idea he was going to divorce his wife for his hosts' son, probably not. But was it really my fault that they were divorcing? I mean, sure I took a part in it, but I wasn't the soul reason.
I thought of his suit case rolling on the floor and him walking pass every small airport store that I did. I thought of his excitement of working with my father on a sculpture. I thought of how different his life was about to be, how different our life was about to be. I sort of envied myself again. I envied where I was before Oliver, so innocent. I had no cares, all I did was partied and played notes on some instrument. I knew nothing of love, of heartache. If I knew what Oliver was going to do to me after it was all said and done I would have avoided him at all cost...or would i? Sure, he brought me such a depression when he left, but would I have traded anything for what we had? Even with all the all the terms and conditions, with all of the pain and Misery?

My eyes started to sting again, tears threatening to form. I needed to get out of this funk. It wasn't healthy, university was going to be just fine. I was going to be just fine. I got up from my seat and wondered around the small airport and spotted a small restaurant that looked empty. I checked my watch: 1:46 pm. I would have enough time to eat an appetizer before my flight since it didn't start to board until 2:50.

"Ciao," I smiled to the hostess who was waiting to seat me, or anyone who was willing to go to the rundown airport restaurant.

"tavolo per uno?" (Table for one?) she urged me to walk in, it was tacky, the way she was so desperate for someone to take a seat in the small place. But nonetheless I walked in, following her. she probably really needed to get some sort of tip.

"qualche bevanda?" (Any drinks?) she said once I took a seat and she whipped out her note pad.

"acqua," (water) I smiled to her and she scurried away to fetch my order.

I loosened up once she left, her anxious characteristics made me nervous, more nervous than I already was. I tried to forget how lonely I suddenly felt. I was so alone. I was going somewhere I've never been before, going to see new people, hell, a new culture. All by myself. But would I really be alone? Time will tell.

She came back, a shaky hand delivering my water,  "sei interessato ad un antipasto? o forse solo un—" I cut her off, she looked like she was going to over do herself just by talking about damn appetizers.

"il formaggio grigliato è buono?" (Is the grilled cheese any good?) i asked with a small smile.

" delizioso," she nodded and smiled back to me.

"Lo prendo," (I'll take it) I closed my menu she gave to me previously and handed it back to her.

She walked away, mumbling something. I assumed she was on some sort of drug, or maybe she was just old and crazy. I pitied her.

•

My food was good. I left the hostess, who's name I figured out was Greta, a hefty tip. I assumed she needed it more than I did. I flowed through the crowded terminals and it felt like everything was going in slow motion. Things hit me all at once, I was leaving, leaving my mother and father, all my friends, my room, my...no our spot, my memories, my memories of him. But I was going to make new ones soon, right? What if after a year he doesn't want me anymore? Fuck.

I went back to my gate and checked my watch again: 2:47. I had three minutes, I could leave the airport right now and no one would ask any questions. I could leave, it was choice was mine. The door was wide open and all I had to do was walk through it. Did I really want this? Stepping on that plane will determine the rest of my life. I could change my fate so easily, I could fuck myself over easily too. I stayed at my gate, until they called for first class to board. My parents had got me "only the best ticket for good luck," to quote my father.

I'm going to choose my own fate, i told myself. And with that, I boarded my plane.

•

Uh okay :)

Also, I could make this book go super long now that I think about it. Y'all want me to just keep it going or start to wind down? Cuz it's really up to y'all I don't really care.

Xoxo