I remember
I remember telling my therapist
that I kept envisioning having a panic
attack on the plane
weeks before boarding.
30 plus hours of travel
we came up with solutions.
Well
we came up with solution
well
we acknowledged the problem
and decided I’d meditate my way through.
But it never worked
despite all of my wishing it to.
I remember 30 plus hours of flights
and no panic attack.
Relief.
It was all in my head
much like
it’s always just all in my head.
Imagining doesn’t always lead
to happening
except when it leads to happening
because
you know
there’s always the trip home.
30 plus hours
for the way home
and this was the shortest
though I swear it was the longest
but they’ll show you it was the shortest
but I’ll tell you it can feel like the longest
when you’re flying alone.
Alone
in the sense that
no one on that plane speaks your language
and that thing you envisioned
that you didn’t find real solutions
real solution for
occurs.
I remember
sitting in my seat
feeling my chest tighten
feeling what I think is my heart
for what feels like the first time
like it’s trying to tell me something
it’s screaming
contracting
relaxing
but the contractions feel too long,
the relaxation
fleeting.
I remember
my left arm at my side
pain
radiating
I remember
remembering,
“oh shit
this is what a heart attack feels like.”
Then convincing myself
no way I’m too young
this is insane
then remembering
all of those other things
doctors told me I was too young for
but bodies have a way of storing pain.
I called her.
“I think I’m having a panic attack
and it feels like a heart attack
and I don’t know if I’m making it back.”
I remember her saying
“Breathe.”
I remember
no longer remembering
if I ever remembered
how to breathe
and now my chest is tighter
and the plane is still grounded
and I’m weighing pros and cons
on if this is the time for me to leave.
But 30 plus hours
of travel ahead of me
gone over panic?
but is it heart attack?
but am I willing to
die for the cheaper ticket?
and I remember
how we so often die
for the cheaper ticket
ready available love
steady paycheck
anything to be comfortable
but they won’t call it numb
or basically dead
or what is this existence
where we’d rather be dead?
Anyway
I stayed.
I remember being grateful for
the one hour of gag videos
that dropped from the ceiling.
Pushing forced laughs
from a dried mouth
so at least they can say
she died happy.
I remember landing.
A 12 hour flight
ahead of me
wondering
if my heart could withstand
tightness twice.
I remember it not having to.
Sitting next to a man
that again couldn’t speak my language.
Empty space between us.
I remember his feet
making their way up to the middle seat
and him telling me
with no words
that mine were also welcome.
So for twelve hours
we communicated with
slight brushes of
calves and toes.
I remember thinking how
this is something I
would never forget.
My heart calm
full of gratitude
that would never be communicated.
Only a wave of the hand goodbye
but I wanted to say
thank you.