How to be Forever Alone [#Wattys2020]

26.

I guess I would have yelled at Rose if she really were here, but for now, I could only give myself the satisfaction of imagining it. I would have it all planned out in the very slim chance that we did meet, so at least there's that.

So... after she chases me down the street and I give her a piece of my mind, I would expect our conversation to go something like this:

"Claire, please, I'm so sorry," she would say, probably with a few tears running down her cheek.

Being incredibly angry with her, I would try and brush her off, but I don't think she would give up so easily. Instead, she would continue to follow me, trying to get my attention.

"Claire!" she would shout, "We called off the wedding."

I would follow up by pointing out, "You mean she called off your wedding."

"But, I... I-" she would try and get out before I abruptly cut her off.

"But what?! Do you love me?! Yeah nice try, cause I really don't love you," I say leaving her with the dust of my enemies on the street.

Maybe a meteor will make itself useful and, you know, accidentally crush her a second later!

Okay, Claire, that might be a little too much.

I'm going to go on a limb and say that I'm possibly a lot angrier then I would like to admit. I think once you get to the point where you're ready to rip someone into a million pieces is when you know it's time to pack up and leave. Luckily, I'm doing just that. I'm making my way towards the nearest road where I can grab a taxi and I'm taking it directly to the airport. I am so done with Amsterdam and red-headed girls and love.

You know, screw love! It's disappointing and it plays with every part of your messed up mind and in the end, you still end up alone.

When I finally get to a road with cars, I hail down the first cab I see and I open the door to throw in my backpack. I'm about to set a foot inside but I can hear something familiar, but incredibly quiet.

"Claire..."

It was practically unnoticeable, the only thing that made me turn my back was the fact that it called my name. I didn't turn around last time, so I decided to this time. There was absolutely nothing that stood out to me, so I get in the car and we head to the airport.

In a respectful amount of minutes, I'm finally at the airport, and although I'm happy to be going home, I'm kind of getting sick of staring at giant towering planes. Seeing that I've done so three times in a week, I just want this horrible adventure to be over.

So, I walk inside and buy a ticket for the next flight home, go through security and I wait just like both times before.

I'm sitting amongst the rows of chairs at my gate and I take a moment to just let out a breath that I was pretty sure I had been holding in for the last twelve hours. All the stress just melts away and for a few seconds, I find myself thinking clearly.

Why did you even go on this trip in the first place, Claire? It's been nothing but horrendous and you're totally regretting it now.

I totally am...

So you're going to go home now, but then what are you going to do? It's not like you can go back to school, you kind of dropped out of that.

Well, thanks brain for bringing that up.

If I could roll my eyes without making it obvious this would be the perfect opportunity.

I'm just saying... You can't just do nothing.

I know I can't just do nothing, it's just... What am I supposed to do?

I don't know, maybe get a job. That way you can fall in love with-

No! God, shut up you stupid brain!

"Boarding for flight 830 to Ottawa will begin in just a few minutes," a lady says over the intercom.

Look at that you were saved by the be- no, no that's not right... you were saved by the intercom.

That so wasn't funny, but I bet Flint would be proud.

I pick up my stuff and I head towards the desk where people are checking tickets and passports. I was probably the fiftieth person in line, but I only had to wait about ten minutes to be able to board the plane.

The door to the plane was a bit shorter than the one that brought me over here in the first place and I had to duck my head just slightly to get inside.

I'm greeted by two flight attendants who show me down one of two aisles that lead to my seat. It was your average kind of seat, nothing fancy and not a lot of leg room, but the fabric at least didn't seem like it came from the '70s.

My mom always said if she ever flew over to Europe she would for sure fly first class.

"I just want to be able to stretch myself out," she says any chance she gets.

Well, I bet the other two hundred passengers on this plane wish for the same thing. And on this flight first class was a lot smaller then what I believe she imagined it would be like. The seats don't turn in to beds, they're simply just a normal seat with a little more room and lined with navy blue leather. I suppose they probably get a little more attention from the staff and more complimentary drinks, but besides that, there's not a very big difference between us and them.

I find my seat, 42B, and I place my bag in the already overflowing overhead bin. It barely fits, but I somehow managed to get it all stuffed in there.

I excuse myself past a man in a business suit to get to my seat beside the left side window. I buckle myself in and we all wait a few minutes before we're ready to taxi on to the runway, and after all this time we take off for Ottawa.

It didn't take me long to fall asleep and somehow stay asleep throughout the whole eight-hour flight. I shouldn't be surprised, I've only gotten a few spare moments to just do nothing in the last twelve hours.

I was only woken up by the man sitting beside me once we had landed. I thanked him before I was able to grab my stuff and I headed out the same way I got in, except this time I was home.

Customs didn't take too long and before I knew it I was standing at Arrivals exit down on the first floor.

I pulled out my trusty old cellphone and the only person I knew I could call was Flint, so I dial his number.

"Hello," I hear him say.

"Hey, it's me," I reply, "I'm at the airport, can you come and get me?"