Here's an older entry that I just found from a previous journal:


[Jun. 5th, 2005|11:48 pm}



So I was stuck at airports for twelve hours today. Not fun. After waiting in Panama City airport for five hours I had finally got on an airplane to Atlanta. I was seated next to this man with an extremely heavy british accent. At first I was kind of annoyed, because he cursed a lot and talked about alcohol and kept repeating words like "bloke". He told me how he builds pools and how back in 1984 he built John Travolta's pool. "It was bloody fantastic." he said. But I thought it was funny how he could tell deep down something was bothering me. "Your drawing a lot on that newspaper, darling...what's on your mind?" he would ask in a cliche voice. "Nothing". He assumed it was a boy so he asked about it. I finally confessed my story and he told me that he was a dirty bastard and that anyone with my face could do a lot better. But then he told me his story and I don't think I'll ever forget it. He said "Girl, My name is Gary Sid of Manchester, England and I'm forty years old. I loved a woman for sixteen years. I helped her raise her two boys....one of them ended up gay and the other butch. And then eight months ago she jumps in a bed with a bastard karate instructor. Sixteen years. I loved every moment of it."

I remember being intrigued "But how, did you forget her?".


He replied half smiling, "I'll never forget her, but I refuse to go back. We will stay friends. It won't ever be the same. But I can't go back. Don't ever try to go back".


That wasn't the answer I wanted. "But, but how do you just breathe again without thinking of her?"



"Well" he said. "The first breaths are hard. But eventually, you will start breathing again". he sighed. " So the prick actually fucked you up over the phone?"



I kind of laughed. "Yea, can you believe that?"



He shook his head. "Nasty bastard. Gee me, what a prick."



I nodded.



He went on. "And took some other girl to that dance? What a fucking asshole."



I kind of laughed. "Yea it's silly that I'm all heart broken over this. I mean you were with her for sixteen years."



"Heartbreak is heartbreak my pretty little friend." he held my hand. "You'll be okay, your strong....I know it....just remember to breathe.....you have a gorgeous face....trust me you'll be fine.....just stand your ground....be tough....be strong.."



I nodded. Gosh how could a man who spends most of his time in pubs be so enlightening?



"We will meet again..and when we do you'll be happy. We'll meet by destiny on October 6th at a place called AJ's."



I just nodded again and said goodbye. October 6th of what year? And who is AJ? And how do you know I'll be happy? How are we ever going to meet again when you live in England and I have no plans for traveling overseas?



I couldn't it believe when we parted. This guy whom I had never met until now, just made me feel so much better. Freaking sixteen years. That's my whole life. And he will never be with her again. And he learned to be okay with it. SIXTEEN YEARS. I can't get over it. I don't understand how people do it. When you care about someone that much. When you spend everyday with them. When they tell you they just don't want to be with you anymore after SIXTEEN YEARS. I just can't comprehend people getting on without that person.