Leah. Do you know how much I've missed that shade of green your eyes have?
I'm beginning to comprehend that I've been writing to you so much, you probably think I'm mad.
You always were stubborn.
How could I never have seen these until now? I cover my mouth. I spend about thirty minutes reading through every word. Something rises in my throat, choking a bit. I take shaky breaths. I smudge my mascara a bit. My stomach churns. I locked myself in the washroom.
I pull out the lyrics of that song Alex wrote for me. I couldn't stand to look at it until now, but I kept it. I read it slowly, carefully, imagining him singing it again. I can hear his voice in my head, and I crumble even more.
It's a melody, the brightness in your eyes.
And you may be, my most impulsive lullaby.
Leah, no matter how hard I try; you keep running circles around my mind.
"Leah, you alright?" Matt whispers at the door, knocking softly.
I sniff. "Ye-yeah, dandy."
"Can you open the door?"
I turn the knob and wipe off the mascara. I set down the letters. "I don't understand, Matt. Has he been writing the whole time?"
Matt grimaces. "'Fraid so. Listen, Leah. Al's a wreck; I've never seen him this bad." He lets out a breath. I run my hand through my hair. "He thinks you've known about the letters this whole time, he's drawn his own conclusions. I hate to see him like this, we've been mates forever. I know he shouldn't have kissed Alexa.... but I know that the guilt about this would haunt him forever. Is there any chance that you'd forgive him?"
* * *
We stand in line, waiting to buy our tickets. Matt's texting somebody. Suddenly his face goes pale. I nudge him on the shoulder. "Alright there?"
Matt looks up to me. "We have to hurry."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"I think Alex is going to do something... reckless," he whispers, stiff. "He was going on and on about how much he fucked up and I tried telling him to calm down, but he's not answering me anymore."
Something tilts in my stomach. Makes time slow for a minute. "How long has he not responded?"
"A good five minutes."
"Last call for flight 206! Closing doors in a minute." I hear the announcers in the airport speakers yell.
"Oh no," I say panicked. "Matt, we need to get on that flight!"
He seems to be a bit in shock. I need to take matters into my own hands. I cut the whole line. Yes, it's probably a douche move for all these people waiting. Somebody yells at me telling me to get back. Once I go to the front desk, the woman there automaticaly starts asking me to go back in the line.
"Ma'am--please. I--I need to catch 206. The love of my life--" I just said it, the words slipping past my tongue-- "he's on the other side of that plane and I need to catch it or... I don't know what he's going to do. Please, I need two tickets--I can't lose him... again."
* * *
The small over the shoulder bag I brought bounces against my hips and our feet slap the floor, twisting through hallways and inbetween people. Oh God. The woman was so nice as to get the tickets but I don't know if we're going to make it--
I see a man closing the doors. "Wait!" I yell, and the man looks alarmingly back at me. I hand him our tickets and run to catch on the plane.
He let us on it.