bids for connection
the early flight the early light
I cried on a plane for no reason. or what would seem like no reason to someone who doesn’t know what a certain light at an unreasonable height can do to you.
the man sitting next to me, who was my opposite in size and emotional composure, had airpods in when I sat down. an empathetic introverted travelers dream. it implies a code of silence that I deeply respect. we didn’t even say good morning, but we are in the Midwest so we did nod and smile warmly. not another word was spoken.
when I cried he pretended not to notice, the manners of our people coming through.
except.
for the the moment where he broke the rules of polite flight and middle American detachment. when he reached over with one hand that was bigger then my entire head and gently patted my shoulder. twice. a gentle pat. then one more. he kept his eyes averted but let his heart open.
did he understand the emotional weight of light seen from an unnatural elevation after all? could he see what I saw?
he saw it, or at least he saw me.
later that morning, seated on a different plane, in the bright unmagical light of an overcast day, next to a woman who ignored the code of silence implied by my AirPods just to explain to me what carnitas are, I sent a note on a group text to fellow light lovers. an SOS from where I sat to where they stood. asking them to help me. to tell me.
am I right about the particular emotion of a sunrise viewed while completely untethered from the earth? absolutely, their responses told me. it’s real.
they knew the feeling, or at least they know me.
