GothiqueFae’s Weblog

So early April Fool’s to all…..this is another one of those holidays that doesn’t and probably never will make sense to me.  Why set a day apart to (basically) play a bunch of tricks on people all day with the potential to humiliate and escalate beyond all proportion.

That being said, I’m pretty sure that God has pulled a prank on me.

It got warm around the beginning of March this year so I figured “Oh yeah spring has arrived, toss the winter jacket, boots and gloves into the farthest corner of the closet.  Break out the light jacket, stiletto boots and pretty, painted fingernails.”  Now in past years I’ve always been the very last person to do any of the above, in fact I usually wear my winter jacket well into April.  But Nooooo.  Anyway after a few weeks of warm weather….TADA!!!!  We get snow and I’m not talking a little snow, I’m talking winter weather advisory, falling so thick I can barely see the road piling up everywhere (again) SNOW!!!!!

Big laugh God :) big laugh ;)

And on top of that during all this my bro has been chilling (or rather ‘warming’) in HAWAII!!!

So ha ha, God, you got me.  Happy April Fool’s day  :)

I’m sitting in the backseat of a taxi again, staring up at the lights as he drives to the airport.  Again.  I sigh and shift, watching the lights of the city drift by silently.  They’re mocking me again.  Saying “You’ve done it, made the same stupid mistake.  You’ll never learn will you?”  I’ll go to the airport and from there fly to another city and the same thing will undoubtedly happen.  That’s what I get for chasing my dreams.  And the same type of guy, no matter which city I’m in.  I nervously smooth my little black dress and straighten my silver bolero jacket.

            “So where you off to?” The cabbie asks, trying to strike up a conversation with a pretty girl.

            “Nowhere in particular,” I respond vaguely.

            “Yeah I know what that’s like,” the cabbie laughs and begins to ramble on about his life and the other passengers he’s had.  I tune him out and he shuts up after about fifteen minutes.

            Cabbies irritate me, and it’s not just because I dated one once.  They’re just…irritating.  I shift again so that I can look out the window and watch the lights.  I’ve always found city lights fascinating.  I grew up in the country where you had stars for company and I liked them but they always seemed far away, remote and cold.  But when I was sixteen I moved to a city and the city lights…well they were much better.  Closer, warmer and much more inviting.  My mother hated the city lights.  She never visited me anyway, not since I told her, not once since then.  She called me a silly girl, said I’d never find what I was looking for and after I told her, she said I was evil and she wanted nothing to do with me; she disowned me.  I smiled when she told me and told her it was about time that I’d been trying to get disowned since I was twelve.  She slapped me.

            “’Scuse me ma’am, we’re here,” the cabbie said as he pulled up to the entrance for the airport.

            “Thank you,” I said as I got out, handed him the money and pulled my bags out of the trunk, “Goodbye.”  Goodbye for now, goodbye forever.  I told someone special goodbye once, goodbye forever.

            “Goodbye,” the cabbie said as he drove off.  That someone special never got to say goodbye.

            I walked into the airport with my purse and my carry-on slung over my shoulder and my suitcase rolling and bumping along behind me.  I missed him sharply, that special person.  He’d be back, that’s what they told me, they said “We’ll find him ma’am, we never leave anyone behind.”  I nodded but we all knew they were lying, we all knew he’d never be back, that they’d already left him behind and would never go back for him.  Oh sure, they’d pretend to go after him and people would walk around on certain days of the year with T-shirts saying that we shouldn’t forget him and those like him.  POW’s and MIA’s.  My mother hated the army, she was happy when he disappeared, happy I couldn’t get married to him.  I slapped her then. 

As I got my bags through security I reached up and brushed my brown locks out of my eyes and stopped for a second.  He was always touching my hair, brushing it with his fingers and caressing its long locks.  I actually cut off a piece of my hair for him to take with him.  And when he left forever I cut it all off.  No one would ever touch my hair like he did.

            No other guy could ever compare to him but I was always hoping I’d find someone close and that’s why I was always leaving.  Going to another city hoping to find my next prince charming, hoping that someone important would recognize the genius of my clothing design and give me a chance, hoping that I could have my happily ever after.  I boarded the plane behind all the rest, handed my ticket to the ticket girl and took my seat.  The plane took off and I sat there, staring out the window wondering if this time my dreams would come true.  This next city, it would be the last one I told myself. 

The last taxi to the airport.