hurting

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I got on the plane after leaving earlier in the morning and waiting a few hours in the airport. I was so hurt that I didn't want to be around Shawn, so I decided to arrived before my check in time and just wandered around with my suitcase. I left before he woke up, or maybe he was awake and did hear me leave but he acted like he was asleep, either way it was for the best. I didn't want to face any discussion at the moment.

Now I was on my seat, next to a woman and her little kid.

Even when I was almost aching to do it, I was not going to cry in public. I never felt comfortable crying in front of other people and I was not going to make the situation even worse for myself by sobbing surrounded by strangers. Instead, I put on my earphones and listened to soothing music while I tried to sleep because I hadn't gotten much rest during the night.

When I woke up, I still had two more hours before landing. I tried not to think about him, not to picture his face in my mind, not to remember his perfume, but it was a hard thing to do. I couldn't understand how we had ended up here. It didn't matter how much I tried to put myself in his shoes, I was never able to accept the way he had treated me lately. Intentionally or not, he had dismissed all my help and chose to hide in his own misery. I felt disappointed... at him, at me, at us. I genuinely felt like we were different, like this relationship was different from any other and it was a hell of a bummer to think that maybe I was wrong.

I looked through the window, buried in my sad thoughts until the wheels of the plane finally made contact with the concrete of the landing track and I was back in my home town.

After claiming my luggage, I stopped by the restrooms and applied make up on my face. I didn't want my family worrying about me. I didn't want to talk about it, so I did what I could to prevent them from noticing that I was feeling down. This was supposed to be a happy occasion, my favorite holiday season. I took a deep breath and walked out to meet my dad and sister waiting for me.

"Oh hija, I missed you so much", my dad said hugging me and kissing the top of my head.

"I missed you too, papá", I said taking in his cuddles. I needed them.

"Let me help you with that", he said taking my suitcase while Sofi and I hugged. God, she looked so grown up.

"How are you?", my dad asked as we made our way to the car.

"I'm good. Just tired... from work and the plane", I said.

"Are you hungry? Your mom was preparing some snacks at home".

"Yeah, I could eat", I said thinking how it was almost 4:30 pm and all I had had was a coffee that I bought at the airport this morning.

We drove home listening to the home station on the radio. Happy, positive, loud tunes that I forced myself to take in to lift up my spirit.

"Mi amor", my mom shouted when we got home and she stepped outside with her arms open to hug me. "How are you?"

"I'm good", I said trying to sounds convincing. "How are you?"

"Oh I'm fine, as always. How is that boy of yours, getting better?"

"Uh, yeah... Just recovering. It will take a while but he'll be ok".

"Great, great. Let's go inside, I made some snacks for all of us".

My abuela was also in the house when went in. I made an immense effort not to cry every time someone hugged me, because my emotions were all over the place, but luckily I managed to keep my self together. Eventually, the comfort of being home with my family brushed away some, but not all, the pain I was feeling.

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