Thursday, January 22, 2009

The.Taming.Of.My.Seoul.

I think as most everyone knows, I boarded a plane for South Korea on December 17, 2008. My reason for coming changed slightly, as the time passed, before I left for the trip. However, the core reason still remained and was also the source of my nervous excitement. Not butterflies, more like the nervousness that’s makes you want to privately vomit. Okay, I won’t lie, butterflies at some points, but for the most part, it was not a pleasant feeling. As I sat and waited in Atlanta to discover my fate (whether I would make it onto the plan or not), I engaged in conversation with various people with interesting stories to tell. Let’s see:

Random Woman with Sleeping Child:
She sits down by me, rushed and out of breath. “It is so hard to navigate through these airports with a stroller!”
I peek into the stroller to see a little angel’s chest going in and out, seemingly to some melodic beat that I’d never get to hear. Rosy cheeks and chubby little fingers that looked sticky. I smile to myself wondering what the mother had just been through, while the child’s hands were getting to their sticky state.
“Are the airports not very stroller-friendly?”
“They’re so big and the elevators are far and few in between.”I nod my head even though I have no clue about the locations of elevators in the airport (except the 2 right near the escalators). Perhaps this is what she meant lol.
The Military Black girl:
“I’m in the military, otherwise I would not be here.”
At this point, I’m not tired, so I accept her offer for asinine conversation.
“How come, you don’t like it there?”
“No, not enough black people,” She says and shakes her head.
Race was not a topic I intended to discuss at that moment, so I diverted to one of my favorites- food. “Do you have a favorite dish out there?”
She adamantly shakes her head no. “Some of the beef dishes are okay, but that’s about it for me.” I look at her and smile; she says, “I hope to see you on the flight,” as she leaves. They have allowed military persons to board first. I thought to respond with an, 'I hope to see you too,' but instead I just smile one of my bests... to her back..yeeaaa.
The two “Typicals” :
These two were particularly funny for me as they represented the typical movie portrayals of two overweight, young , white males that just love to have fun and get drunk. Characters from a National Lampoon, so to speak. Both had dark hair and little beer pudges, but were completely fine with it, completely unaware; All smiles, the entire two and a half hour wait- Reading magazines, listening to music.
“Duuuuude, we gotta get on this flight!” “It would suck to be stuck here.”
I smile at the sincerity in his voice and he notices. He says “Man, I just really have to make this flight. We got a party to get to!” This statement makes me smile even more as that would so be the reason for their rush. I also feel a kinship to them because I too am waiting on a seat that is vital to my well being.
“I look at him and say oh gosh I want to come!” Now, obviously, I did not care about the party they were attending, but I was bored, and great conversation always keeps me stimulated.
He says happily, “Sure, come on, the more the better, plus you’re hot!” This made me laugh but I turned away and put my nose back in my book Suddenly, I got a knot in my stomach as I realized where I was about to fly off to.
Rather, who I was about to fly off to.
Would we get along? Who knows, I ache to see him badly, but I am not over it. I still have so much pain and so much anger. The “cheating?” Yes, that too, but more so the “choice,” or rather , the lack there of. The fact that he told me “I choose you,” that for about two weeks he told me how I was the one he would want and then, just changed his mind. This was more hurtful than any “cheating” could have ever been. Cheating is expected from a man in his stage, unfortunately. You know the stage I’m referring to: “I’m a man but the boy in me still wants to play” stage. The stage where he is making that transition into who he truly is to become. Behaviour in this stage is erratic and at times careless, but when he’s a great man (and he is), the side that proves most successful and progressive for him is the side that will emerge as dominant. However, the latter situation cannot be passed off as simple boyish ways. Or maybe it can… I don’t think he understands the magnitude of the effect that his “decision” had on me, or perhaps just doesn’t care, but it gnaws at me relentlessly. The time out here has been so surreal, whimsical. Being close to him reminds me of Hubble (you S.A.T.C Lovvvahhss know what I mean lol). “Oh the way we were.” However, I must continuously wake myself up from this fantasy to remind myself that when “The Other” visits her affections received will be the same (or more). When one has to constantly question the authenticity of a moment, that special “something” is taken away from that moment. How do I know the things he is saying to me are not being said to her? Lord knows, he got an “A” in charm school, so it’s easy to fall but dangerous as well. I figured when I saw him that everything I’d been holding inside would flow sequatiously out of my mouth. It has not quite happened that way…
Anyway, back to the airport soiree (lol). My nerves are growing more jittery and palms more moist as I ponder the possibility that I might not make this flight. Obviously, I have to. I cannot let him down. I cannot let her down (lol you know she was mad), and I certainly cannot let the most important person of the equation down- myself.

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