Woke up at 6am questioning every decision that led me to book a morning T’way flight.
Not even God is awake, but here I am packing socks with the enthusiasm of a man on parole
Morning flights are great if you enjoy the sensation of dying while technically still alive. I peeled myself out of bed like a microwaved dumpling.
No checked bag. Just me and my emotional baggage, which fit nicely under the seat in front of me.
Security asked if I had liquids. I said only tears. They let me through.
The boarding gate has the vibe of a hospital waiting room if everyone in the hospital was also break and slightly dehydrated.
Sat near a guy playing PUBG on max volume. I hope he wins. I really do. Because I lost at life by booking this flight.
Scanned my boarding pass. No error this time. I feel like I passed a small exam. Finally, validation.
Walked down with the confidence of a man who knows the plane won’t crash but hopes it might.
We look like an army of playmobil
Business class for me today. Thankfully I dont have the old seats
Seat pitch designed for children. Or maybe just adults without knees. Either way, I fold like a soft shell taco.
My window view
Engines rev. We push back. I grip the armrests like they owe me a new life.
We accelerate down the runway. I hold my breath because it’s what I’m good at.
(I have a bad breath too)
Lift-off hits. I feel weightless. For once, it’s not just metaphorical.
The wheels leave ground. I think, “At least gravity’s getting a break.”
Fasten belt light off. My emotional belt is still tight.
Seats are narrow. I fold inward like a sad origami swan.
I stretch knees, but feel like a mannequin in tight jeans.
My thoughts: “Why am I doing this again?”
I mentally schedule future regrets. Calendar full of grief.
Approaching Seoul: smog, hustle, zero hope.
I imagine future me in another trip. Who am I? No idea.
Pilot: “We commence descent.”
Me: “I’ve been descending mentally for days.”
Ground nears. My anxiety picks up speed.
Smooth landing. My life? Jacked.
I stay seated. I’m not ready for gravity emotional or literal.
Stretched and stiff, I crawl off like a worm in training.
