My oldest brother with whom I have a rather tumultuous relationship with, has fallen extremely ill. I am going to visit him in the hospital. Today I drove from Jackson to Salt Lake City thinking of nothing. The thoughts would come and I would banish them, sending them to live out the their time in my subconscious until I am ready to peek at them, one eye at a time. I make my way through security, (mind blank) up the stairs, (mind blank) through the corridor towards my gate, (mind blank) and arrive at B5. I open my book and read until I'm called to board, losing myself in the Sierra Mtns just as the main character of my story does. The phone of my screen reads 3:58pm and I prepare to enter the plane. My mind is blank. The flight departure is delayed for some reason or another, I ease into my seat, close my eyes and allow my mind to fall blank once again. However, I think of you instead. I think that I have not heard from you in awhile. I think that you have not heard from me. I think about your grandmother. And I think about your job. I think about your relationship with your mom and I think about the voice you use to speak to your dog. I think about your smile and how it reaches your eyes. I think about the tone in your voice the last time we had a real discussion. And then I try to count backwards in my mind to discover how many days it has been since I've heard your voice at all. It's too many. My brain somersaults. I fall asleep to a mental image of a picture you sent me last winter of you standing in a parking lot wearing a hat and smiling broadly. I awake and peer out the window of the aircraft. We still haven't taken off. I text my mother and let her know I'll be getting in late. My mind falls blank. I stare out the window at the contrast between the concrete and the new grass beginning to grow just beyond the airports lines. I think that it is a harsh contrast of color. I acknowledge neither beauty nor disgust in this revelation. My mind is blank. My headphones are in. I'm listening to a playlist that it's taken me two months to build. My thoughts wander from lyric, to my current disposition. I feel a range of emotion beginning with guilt and ending with a hopeful reproach. I think of you. Borns blasts through my earphones. We prepare for take off. I stare out the window, you sitting on my peak of my brain, legs swinging, and I am at first shocked by the beauty of the mountains towering over the grid of the city. I think of the last time I saw your mother and I wonder at what she was thinking during this very same takeoff. I think of you. I begin to notice the muggy inversion hanging over the mountains and I think to myself that it does not seem to belong. I think of you. I think of words and phrases and strings of letters that you have said to me. I think about your lips parting. I think of your mind and wonder at how it must work so hard to keep up with your heart that is so vast and forgiving. I compare your view of me to the mountains covered in smog. I silently thank you for seeing beyond my shield. For believing me to be so special. For making me feel so warm and safe and loved. The guilt returns. I think of you. I've had enough. Roaming never has done me much good. Id like to see you. Perhaps at the end of the summer. Let me know if you are willing and able. Take your time getting back to me. I hope your mind is in a peaceful place. Happy Thursday. All my love.
