By: Laura K.
Final approach! I cue up my Discman.
A cold and wet December day, when we touched the ground at JFK…
Despite the jetlag I bounce to the tambourine. Passport control takes eternity.
New York, like a Christmas tree …
He’s not home yet. I shower, disappointed. Shaving my legs I hear him singing, sounding bemused, annoyed. I redo my makeup.
Showtime. We pretend we don’t care about each other. I crash on the couch.
Morning brings Advil, coffee, another flight, my parents, The Holidays. I know he’s doing the same, but I can’t picture it.
Jesus Christ I miss you.