She was my first airplane flight,
And first one out to Manila.
This ride home could be the last one
I'll be taking coming from there.

I read this on the phone as I boarded the plane.
I am her first one true love, she said.
How could I not jerk a tear reading that?
Even from a text message?
Even in a plane full of people.
Even at miles in mid-air minutes later.

The silly mouth-open dorky sleeping position
Of this man sitting near by is my only comic relief
As I write one final goodbye to what was us.
To four years.
To tens of bottles of beer.
To thousands of beautiful photos.
To a near hundred thousand messages,
If my calculations are right.

But I'll never have an equation to count
How many pieces our hearts smashed into.
Yes, I broke hers and my own.
That's what happens when you drop a heart
With your own falling right behind it.
Sometimes, you forget that you both had your
Little red pumpers tied tighly together.

Have you ever held someone as they cried?
Have you ever felt like crap for drawing tears
Out of the most beautiful of eyes?
Have you ever felt so guilty for breaking
A heart that felt nothing but love for you?
I have. You should not try it at home.
Nor anywhere. Nor anytime.

The distance plays in my favor this time.
At least I won't be reminded of how much
I used to love this lady if I bump into her.
Zero to slim chance of that happening at random.

I am usually in pain of loneliness when I fly home
Because it's sad to be apart most of the time.
But at this moment, this trip back feels like I crashed.
Several times. A crash for every trip I took to see her.
And for every flight I could have taken for her.
Yes. It hurts that much. Even for me.
I sort of regret giving in to her request to see her.
I could have avoided this hurt.
But I guess -- no, I know -- I deserve it.

May her next true love never put her through this.
And when she's ready, I'll be waiting for her to forgive me.
But not to forget. Because I know, I never will.

Plane's on a descent now.
And I rammed mine right into a wall.
If only our landing was smoother.
If only servicing emotions could only take minutes.
If only it was easy for both of us to fly again.

This plane won't be taking to the clouds.
Not for a long while.
Back to the hangar for major repairs.
To be taken apart, cleaned up
And put back together.
In time, she'll be back in the sky.
Like brand spanking new.
Soaring high. Free. And loved.