Hometown Glory.

I hate airports. I really do. They are crowded and invested with germs. Airport security is a mess right now and it takes forever. Your stupid flights get delayed for stupid reasons and I hate packing. Packing is horrible. It really, truly is.

Airports are evil. Airports are just mean and I hate them. I don't ever want to be in one ever again.

Airports are the reason I'm standing in my apartment making Spaghetti O's for myself. Not for two people to quietly enjoy and watch late night television on a quiet night. No, just me.

The worst part was my apartment was more quiet than usual. It wasn't peaceful- more spine chilling. The air was chilly and made you want to breathe out into the air to see if your breath was visible.

I didn't know why tonight was so horrible, but it was. I had to deal with it.

I had to deal with all of this. I tried the obvious ways: drinking, sleeping with Mark. I even tried ignoring it and being a kick ass surgeon today.

None of those things worked. She still stood in the back of my mind. And I still deathly hated airports.

My hatred for airports is really unhealthy. Actually, this entire situation is really unhealthy. Especially coming from everything we've been through. A shooting. That should have been the most horrible thing I ever went through.

Except this moment, right now, is coming really close to that one day that Gary Clark entered my territory. The reason? She was with me that day.

And she's not with me now. And she's the reason I'm hurting so bad. She's the reason my hair is short and I'm crying myself to sleep every night. She's the reason sometimes I don't sleep and replay the memory of the airport over and over and over again until I remember every single word that was spoken with every single gesture. Until I drive myself so crazy I force myself to take sleeping pills so I don't think about it anymore.

Yes, that's the reason.

I'm doing better, I guess. I mean I'm not crying at work anymore. I'm not obsessing over it to anyone. Nobody really tries to talk about it much. A word about her here and there. I can hide it well. Little do they know even a single mention of her makes my heart twist and turn like it's being twisted too far. I'm waiting for the day it snaps right in half.

I can't even watch TV. God forbid they mention something about the state Arizona. Because that makes it all worse. It has nothing to do with the human walking this earth that has my heart, but it sure makes it hurt.

Maybe it was my fault. I did push the baby subject pretty hard. She doesn't want kids, I should have left it at that. She loves them to death but can't see one if her life. Okay. End of discussion. I get it.

But I pushed it. I pushed it so hard we broke up then.

But we got back together.

Then we fought. We fought each other so hard.

Why was I so defensive then? It was a freaking non-existent baby we were talking about. I should not have done that. No. I should not have. Should. Not. Have.

I sighed and shook my head. I'm pathetic, right? I'm standing here making Spaghetti O's and self loathing.

I don't know exactly what else to do. Mark isn't working. Drinking doesn't work. Even work, does not work. What do you do, then?

I'm not sure. This has never hurt so bad before. Then again, I've never loved anyone as much as I love her before. This isn't a George or Erica repeat. This was a brand new experience. And I'm not going to lie, I didn't let it happen so easy.

I didn't let her in as much as I should. I had my guard up for a pretty long time. But the moment I put it down, she was wonderful. She made me see everything I've been missing in such a clear light.

And then she left. Just like that. So willingly. Just walked down to get on a plane and leave.

That was the day my guard went right back up. I blocked out everything I could with all my will. The light was broken. My heart was broken.

It takes a lot of energy to block out everything. It takes a lot.

It does not take a lot to break someone, however. She did it so easily.

She's a fool. She fools everyone. Stupid fake smile and that stupid fake, "I love you!" I hate her. I hate her. Except I love her. I love her so freaking much. I need her. I want her. I'm in love with her.

But she's in Africa. And I'm making Spaghetti O's.

I'm sure she's over there making medical history and having the time of her life. Being surrounded by everything she's dreamed of. I'm sure she's having a really fantastic job.

And I'm here. In my spooky apartment all alone. Wondering why everyone else has a life and I'm here. By myself.

Why do I always end up by myself?

I don't know what I do that's so wrong. Why does everyone just get up and leave me?

Maybe I should try to find someone else in this world that won't bail on me. Except that won't work. Because I compare every single person next to her. To their hair to their shoes. Truth is, nobody can compare to her. She's something special. You don't find her anywhere. You can't, don't look.

I've tried. Oh how I've tried.

I put my hands on my head and took a long, deep breath. I heard the timer go off and turned off the stove.

So what am I going to do now? Eat in my ghostly apartment? All alone?

You're damn right I am. This is my life now.

I started to pour my Spaghetti O's into a bowl until I heard a friendly knock.

I wanted to yell for them to go away. I wanted to yell at them to leave me alone and scream at them for making me sit here alone. And then I wanted them to come inside and comfort me. And force me to go on a plane to Africa.

That wouldn't work. I'd have to enter a freaking airport!

Screw airports.

It's probably Mark. He's so stupid. He really is. He's my best friend and all, but he's really stupid. Lexie is obviously still in love with him. And she's here. She's not in some other city, or state, or country. She's right here. And he's just dillydallying around like there's no chance in hell he can get her back.

Stupid Mark.

Of course it's not her. Why would it be her? Why would I even have a tiny little bit on hope that it could be her?

I'm stupid too. She's gone. She's in freaking Africa for heaven's sake. And my heart still jumps as if she's right outside that door.

Stupid me.

What do you expect me to do? Not hope it's her? Everybody wishes. Everybody has hope. It's like when its 11:11pm and everyone shuts their eyes and wishes for something.

Even though everyone knows in the back of their mind it will never come true. They do it anyways.

So damn straight, I'm going to wish it was her anyways. Even though when I open the door and it's Mark, my heart is going to sink. Like it always does. And then he's going to leave and I'm going to be alone again.

Always find a way to end up alone.

"Mark! Did you forget your keys?" I asked so cheerfully. I said it before, I'm good at hiding it. What else can you do? Just spill out in front of the world for them to watch like a car accident?

No, they don't deserve that.

I walked over to the door and opened it up.

No.

"Okay so picture this- I'm in Africa and everythings great,"

Honestly?

"And the people are so nice and the clinic is amazing,"

Seriously?

"And I'm doing work that actually feels important like I- like I can actually see that I'm making a difference."

Okay, no. This is not how I pictured this moment. Not how I pictured it at all. I can't believe she's here. I can't. These stupid, pathetic, useless dreams I've had about this moment I never would have thought would come true. But I never thought it would happen like this.

She's not supposed to show up at my door step bragging about how great Africa is. No. She is not supposed to show up looking as beautiful as ever and stand here and tell me how the past months have been amazing and I've been here miserable.

"But I'm crying, like constantly,"

Maybe she did miss me. Maybe she was miserable too. No, she left me. She made that choice. She chose to walk out of my life without even looking back once. I don't get to feel sympathy towards her.

"And then this guy that I work with at the clinic finally asks me what's wrong and I say that I miss my girlfriend. Like I really miss her."

You left me. You don't get to miss me. You don't get to do this!

"So then he asks me if I wanna go back. If they could replace me and- and then I open my mouth to say no but what comes out weirdly instead is yes. And so they did. And then I came back. "

I'm letting her inside. I'm going to let her in and let my guard down. I'm going to get over everything we've fought about and ignore the fact that she left me and everythings going to be okay.

Except it's not. I can't let her inside. My guard is up so high I'm wondering if I should give up love at all. Everything we have fought about is circling my mind like I have never even seen it before.

She's back. I dreamed about this moment and in my dreams I let her in.

I can't do that now.

"You look really pretty."

How dare she? How dare she. You don't see the miserable expression on my face? You don't see how every night I cry myself to sleep? You don't see any of that? Or maybe you do and think I'm pretty anyways.

You don't deserve this. No, you don't deserve me.

She made me miserable. She ruined everything we had and threw it away like it didn't matter that much to her. She just walked away. Gave up so easily.

That's the problem with dreams. When it's a good dream, you only see what you want to see.

But this, right here, is a nightmare. I don't want to see her beautiful face look so sad. I don't want her to come begging back for me. I don't want this. Not like this. This is not how it's supposed to be.

I stood there in the middle of a freaking airport begging for you.

And now you are standing at my doorstep begging for me.

You left me at the airport.

I flicked my hand and watched as the door gently started to close. Her face turned from hopeful to terrified. The door shut gently and I stood there.

I'm alone again.

I always end up alone.

The love of my life is standing right outside this door. And I shut the door on her face.

I left her. While she stood there begging. Why don't I open it back up and hug her? Kiss her beautiful lips and tell her I'm sorry for everything?

We can get past this starting tonight. We can move on and everything will be perfect in the world.

Except I don't.

I want to turn around walk to get my bowl of Spaghetti O's. Maybe even walk to my bed to eat them in peace and find a nice book to read.

Instead I do something else that also wasn't supposed to happen in my dream.

I lay on the floor. And I cry.

I cry harder then the days after she left.

She begged for me like I did for her.

Now we're even.