Dear Claire

I awoke  in the Tampa airport this morning, mentally but not physically as how I got there is a blur . I haven’t slept much lately three hours in four days to be exact, Insomnia is much like living in a drug induced half life without the benefit of the high. I have come to the conclusion that one of my biggest annoyances in life is when there are a plethora of open chairs and strangers insist on sitting next to me. I take it as a personal insult as I could truly do nothing more to make myself seem completely devoid of any interest in human interaction, outside my comfort zone of already existent friends and family. Needless to say what started as me sitting by myself quickly ended up with me being part of the only fully occupied row in the entire terminal. It wasn’t until I was unable to contain my sheer annoyance and was forced to stand that I noticed him. He wasn’t especially handsome, skinny, lanky and at least a portion Hispanic, in fact if the tattoos hadn’t covered every part of his body including several on his face I most likely wouldn’t have even noticed him. I stood behind him so he couldn’t see me but I could watch his every move, the looks people gave him came in droves, some of disgust, some of pity but all came in judgement. He seemed to enjoy it, out of the corner of my eye I could see him make eye contact and smile at everyone that looked at him. Not a friendly smile but an antagonistic one, his reactions were beautiful, his stance unfledgling as he stared at the right in the eyes and non-verbally told them all to fuck off. I knew he was a tattoo artist, I have never met anyone with a face tattoo that wasn’t completely committed to the “business.” “Now seating guests in aisles  1-15″ the announcement came  over the loud speaker and I was in my seat before  I knew I knew how I got there. Not even two minutes had passed when I noticed him walking down the narrow airplane aisle. The whispers started immediately and it seemed a collective sigh of relief was had by the passengers every time he passed an aisle and didn’t sit down next to them. He was walking straight towards me, his eyes fixed  ahead until he came to a dead stop in the aisle right next to me. I let him him, we spoke briefly, and I watched as he drew a skull and cross bones on every cartoon face  in the airlines emergency manual. I thought about how almost everyone on the plane had judged him because of the way he looked, not even realizing that intolerance is an epidemic. What did they peg him for a callous, drug addicted criminal? I admired how he seemed to not care and almost wallowed in their discomfort. As the door to the cabin shut I looked down and caught a glimpse of a text he had written, this man so many had pegged as a piece of trash with no knowledge of his core at all had written…..

Dear Claire,

I am departing Florida I will see you tonight. 

I can’t wait, I miss your face!