Today I felt the weightlessness of wheels up; the helplessness of only being able to see right or left, but not ahead.

I looked out the window trying to be present with what is, feeling the plane jostle right and left, up and down; knowing that my life had changed with those wheels up.

I finally left.

The weightlessness of this life doesn't include you but you still show up in my dreams; haunting me through memories of touch and realities of silence and the ache in my stomach that is only caused by thoughts of you. You come to me when I lay restless, zoning out on documentaries. This unfamiliar bed feels so big, as if my body can't seem to land from the wheels up moment; like the ground I once felt in your arms is gone forever.

Because I finally left.

She used to tease me about my darting eyes. They dart to the right or left. And in their darting, they always seemed to find you. You, however, always look down. Or up. Or in. But never in my direction. And now, as I can only look right or left with what is, with the back and forth movement of this hurling forward leaving, my gaze feels empty and blank. I imagine this is what you see as you are always leaving. Nothing. Which is why you can always leave without leaving and why I can always stay without staying.

But I finally left.

Lightning brightens the dark skies and I tense up with fear. This wheels up story is so different than the old one; the one you commanded; the one with the ground and the noise of subtle, quiet, San Francisco rain. This story is loud with thunder and the ache of my jostling body. So I lay here, breathing in the recycled air... The air that has gone in and out of so many lungs, but has never even touched your lips... The air that reminds me that all I can do is to keep moving forward with these wheels up.

Because I finally fucking left.

Our farewell tour ended like most of them do: A slew of rumors from the peanut gallery (an unnamed source) and hurt feelings from within the group. But we did it for the memories, the feelings, the sex or the money (who knows).

I remember 7 years ago. She said: Always keep the source in mind. So I sit here, trying to remember the source. The last time we all sat together, on your couch, sipping wine, you and I pretending to be in a relationship; her, the concerned ex girlfriend/ best friend speaking of her own relationship issues. She told me she always cheats because she always has a unfulfilled need... You lashed out, telling me of lovers you've had, thrown secretly and passive aggressively in my face. I felt confused. Why am I baring the brunt of this misdeed from 10, 15, 7 years ago?... I can't remember how long it has been because there are so many similar stories that they all seem to run together.

So she said these words and I shared things with her; emotions, one might call them. But half a year later, the reality is so much louder; so much clearer. She forgives you all your trespasses, making excuses for you and all your disassociative, dishonest, avoidant ways. I don't totally get it, I'll be honest, but I guess it doesn't matter, and I digress. 

Still we continued on our farewell tour. Goodbye to you and me.

So last week we decided to forget about the progress we had made. For you, it was the sex. I know this because I saw it, heard it, read it and felt it. I miss her, but mostly the sex, you emanated.

For me, it was the connection. I haven't connected much since all the death started, so this has been a tough one to walk away from. She said I could say no too and that is true. She followed that up with a judgment about how much I share. It's strange that one who works with others' emotions is so judgmental of them... Yet that makes so much sense, especially when that person has never really felt the loss I have. But I digress, again.

So for me it was the connection. It was this weird, elusive, sweet connection I have always felt with you. You call it chemistry. I wonder sometimes if it is actual emotional connection like I feel, or base, physical chemistry as you always describe it. Or maybe for you it is this base physiological need and for me it is something completely different. I'm not saying mine is better or more noble, just different. Mine is my experience and yours is your experience and in the end the two shall never cross; like in audio and out audio, we will never be on the same wires.

So this weekend was out farewell tour and we went into it with the sweet firvor of any good farewell tour. We played loudly, sweetly and with passion.  We played only our most popular songs at only the best venues. And as the end was in sight, the instruments started failing, always off key or played to the wrong rhythm. The rifts in the group started to become clear to the audience, had there been an audience.

But there wasn't. There never has been.

And the tour ended. We had a brief talk, and attempted all of the closure we could muster. The fans (what were left of them) hoped for a reunion, but we just said, again, goodbye to you and me.