3 summers ago

I was on the plane by myself. I felt excited to be traveling by myself. Kaity gave me a ride to the airport. First she took me to the wrong one (SFO) but then we were back on track (Oakland). I was also nervous because I hid some weed in an altoids tin and brought it with me. I passed airport security. Yes! I boarded the plane and then the anticipation began. I watched all of the swarm of firefly lights of the bay area slowly turn into scattered polka dots as the land stretched out flat and wide before me, underneath me. I was above the changing states, I was in a changing state, mentally, physically, so many possibilities. I never thought I'd be in Kansas. These are the kind of surprises in life that I love. If I was told a year before I would be there I would be completely puzzled. I arrive in the smallest airport I've ever seen. Hello? Hello Wichita. I wait. You and your father arrive and my energy is still in the mountains though we are on the plains. We haven't touched yet because I put all my bags in the car right away and shuffle into the backseat. I want to wait before we hug or anything else because it's all been too much, there's too much energy contained in me and I want to save it for when all my baggage is on your floor, when I can really hold you and not abruptly stop to get the car. So your father drives, and I sit behind you. But even then we can't resist and  begin to hold hands through the crack of the door and the seat. Not just a grip, but really feeling each others hands because it's been awhile. Feeling the curves of your knuckles, the lines on our palms merging paths. our hands needed to meet again. especially since we can't face each other in this moment it's as if our hands are doing it for us. Kissing hands. All the while lightning bugs are smashing themselves against the window, exploding into the glass like oozing glowing fireworks. Lovely romantic sacrifices.