When In Doubt

Prologue

I'm over the ocean right about now. I can't say that this was how I pictured all of it to wind down to. I can't say that I didn't want this to happen. I can't say that losing something I thought was great, gaining something that was actually great, and then losing that great thing for the first thing that wasn't really all that great to begin with, was great. Nope, not great at all.

But here I am. I do have to say that one of the only good things that came out of this is that I have a window seat. But then again, this way I have to watch Portugal fade away; have to see it be swallowed by the water. But I can't seem to look away. I have to savour it as long as I can. I don't want to look at the screen positioned oh-so-comfortably in the first-class seat. That would mean looking forward, forward to the future, in my mind. But the future looks to be full of the past. The memories from the last few months will be taunting me with knowledge that it could never be the same if I ever did it again.

And the very worst part of it all is that it won't ever happen again. Everything from the walking down narrow roads to the laughter full of tears was all I had lost, and it was all that I could wish for now.

I had to hang on to the memories; that was why I had to look out the window. I had to clarify that it all happened. Placencia, Madrid, and Barcelona had to have happened. I needed something to tell me that. And that small sliver of land that was only getting harder to see was what made it reality. Everything had happened. But even now, with the clouds filling my eyes with white, blocking my sight, the memories were fading; drifting. They were slipping from my mind. And like the clouds filled my eyes, tears filled them, too.

And the only words that I could muster when the flight attendant came and asked if I wanted chicken or pasta was 'Jog on'.