Airport Love Crisis

I think someone should write a television series about my relationships. The title can be Get it Together. It would star me – a single, successful, young woman trying to find true love, in this cold world. You see, I am the idiot headed back to LaGuardia, in this old taxi. I might not even make it there, if my cab driver does not stop driving like he is the only vehicle on the road. How could I not see that he still had feelings for her? Technically, he is adamant he does not, but I found her letter professing her love for him. He admitted that he let her come take care of him, while he was sick, with COVID-19. I think he is lying because women do not just get feelings out of nowhere. From experience I can say, men tend to lead us on. I cannot blame her though. She is in love. Although what did I really expect? She is the mother of his son. Stupidly, I am in love with him too. And since I want him to be happy, I told him, he should give it another try with her and left. Now I am watching the rain pour down from this green cab and kissing Brooklyn goodbye. I could never come back here as it feels like I am leaving a piece of me behind. My grandmother used to say that it rains because God is crying. Well at least God can express his tears. I am in too much shock to cry. I just feel stupid because I saw a future with him, instead of opening my eyes to the reality that she was still in his heart the whole time. You cannot just break years of history, love and hate like they had just because you care about someone new. I rolled down the window, to get one last whiff of Brooklyn, but now, in addition to the usual stench of the borough, I smell my own broken dreams and the fears that have always lingered, in the back of my mind. Brooklyn now smells like concrete and failure. As I swiped my card for the cab and grab my belongings, LaGuardia now smells like hope and depression, at the same time. As I walk through the automatic doors and stood in line for the ticket desk, I had hoped this next part would be like a scene out of a movie. I wanted the man I love to chase me with flowers, and we kiss and make up, while everyone claps. Unfortunately for me, it is not that kind of party. As I stand in line, I could not help but get lost in thought. Why couldn’t I make him happy? Was he always just meant to be with her? I was so lost in thought, I didn’t even hear the ticket agent saying next, until the man behind me tapped me.

I paid for my ticket, went through TSA, and waited at the bar for my flight back to Miami. The bartender slid over a double. I guess he could tell I needed it. As I stared into my glass of Jack Daniels, on the rocks, it dawned on me. What could be on his mind, with the way I took off. Was he wondering if he should call me? Was he making love to her to consummate their rekindled relationship? I looked up and saw a man across the bar, in about the same state of mind. He appeared to be attempting to drown his sorrows in a glass. However, seeing him did not make me feel sorry for myself. Seeing him depressed left me wondering if my actions had depressed the love of my life. Does he feel hurt because I let go of him so easily? Does he think I do not truly love him? I pressed my racing forehead against the palm of my hand, with my eyes opened wide. I thought to myself but asked aloud, “What did I just do?”