Wednesday, October 27, 2010


As my trip to the US approaches, I am forced to confront my nearly crippling fear of flying. I have had butterflies not so pleasantly fluttering around my stomach for the last week, gaining velocity each day my flight nears. I was talking to Ian last night about the matter and he confirmed my suspicion that he is indeed a person who enjoys flying. He confessed to me that every time the plane is about to land, as the wheels have dropped and the aircraft hovers feet above the runway, he feels a sense of fulfillment, that if anything were to happen at that point in time, he would be alright with it.

This is a comforting thought, and one I have thought on many occasions, but being on an airplane, in transit between my 2 worlds, I can't say I would be at peace with dying. Leaving mom, nana, Bronte, and Tyler behind in our castle-like abode in Mexico to venture back to my hometown to visit dad and Chloe, I still have a lot of living to do and I don't feel complete without either of these groups. My fear is gravely escalated compared to previous trips and I believe this is this reason. Being without my baby sister, the one I shared a room with most of my life, the one who's hair I pulled out and clothes I threw in the toilet in the midst of sibling rage, the one who loves to lay on me and snuggle to no end, is a dull ache, not a sharp stabbing pain, but an off feeling that hazes my days. Even when things are wonderful, there is always a Chloe-shaped hole that when filled, makes it perfect. And to be without mom, who, after years of denying it, I have finally admitted my bond with, would be awful. 

When I think of my trip, I am filled with a mixture of excitement and sadness that I have to leave half of my family to honor the other half. It is a difficult feeling that only living in Mexico for a year has forced me to acknowledge. My troupe here are such an integrated part of my daily life that being without them for a month is going to feel odd for certain. On the other hand, I am thrilled to renew old bonds and spend time with people I seldom see. When I think of the concept of accepting my plane going up in flames, I know it is necessary, but I resist it because I simply don't feel that I've had enough time with the people I love, but perhaps I never will.

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