June 17, 2011
Delta Air traveling from LAX to Amsterdam, 7:30pm PST
Brian texted me while I was packing. He wanted to say happy birthday. His text made me feel better, in a weird way. Like, something hadn’t changed. We made that horribly awkward small talk that ended with me calling him cocky and him not responding. And then I packed. And then I sat in traffic for an hour and a half to get a hotdog with my little bro Ellick at a place called Pink’s in the center of LA. The traffic, we found out as we were passing, was caused because some stupid cop had pulled someone over inside of a tunnel. Even if that wasn’t what happened I’m still going to say that’s what happened, because being annoyed with the cop felt better than focusing on the traffic, which made me focus on leaving.
I thought about Josh a lot, because I know he had spent a summer in Asia, and some other place, doing random film stuff. I wondered if it was hard for him to leave, the way it was hard for me. Probably not though, realistically. That kid was the most nihilistic person I had ever met, a destroyer personality type I couldn’t even imagine being. Not that that’s a bad thing. It’s just easier for him to go on adventures. And harder too, actually, given that the motivation to go on these adventures generally came about as part of a larger (generally more narcissistic) conquest.
Before I boarded the plane I asked Brian to call me. He did; probably because it was my birthday. He got an internship working for an environmental company near his school that specializes in clean air. He is happy. It made me happy to know he was happy, because I am happy too. Not at this moment, but generally speaking.
I wondered if John was nihilistic. Because he traveled throughout his early 20’s more than anyone I had ever met. He lived in multiple countries for months at a time and, upon recent stalking, he’s apparently going somewhere far away for the rest of summer too. I don’t think he is nihilistic though. Not like Josh. John’s ability to just travel around seems to come from his own his own curiosity and need for adventure. I thought maybe he’s a hedonist, but he’s not that either; or maybe my infatuation prevents me from seeing him as that. I wish I could see why it’s so easy for him to just leave places. I’d love for it to not be a character flaw.
So Brian was staying in SLO for summer. He asked me what I was doing and I said the usual. I didn’t feel like telling him about Italy. It felt weird to me, like the last possible plan ruined, even though it’s been a long time since those plans were even remote possibilities. I eventually told him, right before I got on. He told me to have fun. I didn’t respond.
I’m bad at leaving. I always have been. I’d stay with a guy who I don’t like anymore just because I had the concept of things ending. I hate endings the same as I hate beginnings. It’s sort of like when you are reading a mildly crappy book. You get to the last chapter and it’s like, damn, now I have to find a new book, and what if that book sucks worse than this one. Then you find a book and have to get awkwardly acquainted with the characters, and sometimes they are weird and you aren’t sure how you feel, and the cycle continues.
There’s someone behind me who won’t stop talking about how he’s never left the country, and how he gets to see two countries for two whole hours (sarcastically). I want to tell him to shut up, but I took this relaxation pill that’s making me super unmotivated.
I feel really sad and homesick. I miss my family and friends already. I hate that I am spending my birthday in a plane. I am trying to make myself feel better by thinking about all the cool adventures I’m going to have, but right now all I can think about is the return flight, and how it’s a full 24 hour ordeal because I am an idiot when it comes to planning. In one day I will be in Rome and I know I am going to look at the plane ride and get all tripped out about how I was thinking about being there now, but still. I want to get there so I can keep busy. Sitting here is making me crazy sad.