Planes Make Me Think

He represents my fun side, my sweet side, my innocent and childlike side

He represents my romantic side, my do-gooder side, my idealism

He represents my naughty side, my creative side, my ego

He represents my stable side, my nurturing side, my motherly instincts

He represents mostly what I want in life, but there’s too little intellectual stimuli

He represents what I can never have and have always wanted, but still keep wishing for every, single, fucking day.

Each one is a part, but not the whole.


Planes make me think. I sit with my headphones on and daydream. Sometimes, I’m thinking of my death as the plane goes down and how I would accept that reality if it came true. Sometimes, I’m thinking of making drinks behind the bar and chatting with my regulars. Sometimes, I’m thinking of my complicated family and thanking my lucky stars I’m many miles away even though it hurts because I miss them always. Sometimes, I’m picturing myself choreographing a modern dance piece to whatever music is in my ears. Sometimes I’m in Lot 8 or Lucky Bar with my soccer friends in the morning sipping a mimosa. Sometimes, I wanna cry because I love being alone, but it also keeps me thinking. I think a lot. I think too much. I am a woman I suppose. Doesn’t it come with the territory or something? Men have a “nothing” box that they can go to in their heads when they don’t want to think? Or so I hear this is the case. That is impossible in my world.


Planes make me think. I think of him, and him, and him, and him and all of the hims in my life. Then, I think of her and her and her and her and all the hers in my life. I don’t know if I’m the luckiest or the saddest person on earth? I have all these important hims and hers scattered across the globe. I make more friends and more connections every time I travel, which brings me joy but then sadness. Why can I not have ALL my hims and hers in the same place for my own selfish needs? Yet, I head to another city, where I know no one to make new friends, so I can miss them too. I like torture?


Planes make me think. I think of my past. I think of the now. I think about the recycled air I’m breathing. I think about how this seat is too upright for me, but at least the seat cushion is comfy. I think about how I should put on my reading glasses and how mad that makes me because I’m obviously starting to feel my age for real. I’m thinking about the turbulence that is happening and my death again. Why doesn’t death scare me? It’s only how I’ll die that scares me. I hate pain. I’m scared to be scared and I’m scared to feel pain.


Planes make me think too much. I want to kiss him. I want him to hold me. I want to feel that excitement. I want to lie in his bed. I want him to be with me wherever I am. I want it all. I want him to make me coffee in the morning. I want to love him. I want to be free to love him. I never have. I’ve always hated him. Since I can remember, I’ve hated all that is “him.” I’ve spent my adult lifetime hating “him.” I want to let in the love that I deserve. I want him to feel all that I have give. He never has. No he ever has.


Planes make me think. I feel good right now. I’m happy. I love being out in the world. But where is he? I want my partner-in-crime to raise hell with me. To nerd out with me. To let me cook for him. To let me make him coffee. I know I will find him one day. All of him. Until then, I can only sit here on this plane and think. Think about my amazing friends I’ve left behind again. Those I miss so very much. My heart aches thinking of them. All of those I’ve left behind again and again and again. Reunions are on the horizon with some very special ladies in less than a month and the thought of it literally brought tears to my eyes on this plane. And this is why it’s worth it. All this travel, all these people, I will see everyone again. I will embrace my friends and tell them how much they mean to me in person again and again until my departure from this earth. All the connections I’ve made are worth the feeling of loss when I leave a place. I hurt for all of you. You mean more to me than you know. All of the hims and the hers. Oh, planes make me think. Too much…too much.

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