I flew from
Denver to see my
girlfriend in
San Francisco a few months ago, and she was as
cold and
unappreciative as ever. She likes
coffee, you know, so I'd stuffed my bag full of
fancy Godiva coffee to give to her. And she'd always
hated that my hair was long, so I cut it -- for the first time in half a year. It had been almost a month since I had seen her last, and I was, at that point, so
starved for
physical affection that I could
burst.
But she didn't even show up at the
airport. I had to take a
taxi cab to her
apartment.
She had
forgotten that I was
coming in that day.
I
stayed with her anyway, though. I was there for three days. She
never once said "
thanks" -- not even for the coffee. She
left me to myself quite a bit. Sometime's she'd leave
early in the morning and I'd wake up in her bed
alone. I
laid there in that
cold bed of hers once --wondering who else had been there a week
prior-- and it occured to me that I could not
figure out why we were still together. It ate at me, like an
acid devouring my soul. And it was at exactly 8:56AM,
February 10th, that I decided to end our
relationship.
To end it by convincing her that I had
died.
It was
crazy --and
depraved!-- but I can't help but look back on it with a certain amount of
perverse relish.
Frankly, I was
glad to leave her. She was
decent enough to take me to the airport this time. She was truly
beautiful that day. And for a second, I
doubted. I wondered if
leaving her really was a good idea. It was a
transient thought. I knew how
empty she was. She was truly
wrong for me. I
kissed her
goodbye and got on my plane.
When I
landed, I headed for my friend Scott's house. I got him to
call her. On the plane, I had
written out what I wanted him to say. He dialed the number and clicked the
speakerphone on.
SCOTT: Is this Miss Winters?
AMY: Yes, it is.. may I ask who's calling?
SCOTT: This is Frank Wilson, Delta Airlines..
AMY: Okay..
SCOTT: Well, uh, I've never had to do this before, but... ma'am, we at Delta regret to inform you that Delta flight 45 had... some trouble landing... and... well, there were no survivors. A, uh, Mister Ken Hughes left this phone number to contact in case of... we're so very sorry..
*sob*
*click*
I wonder what happened to her.
The world is a magnificently diverse place, and it's possible that this, indeed, was a true story. It just didn't happen to me. I love my girlfriend more than anything else, and she bears no resemblance to the girl described in my story. It's just an idea I had while I was hanging out clothes today.