Chapter 38: Random Thoughts While Sitting in the Airport

I find myself actually missing TDH, which surprises me a little because I thought I was coming to the point where I convinced myself it would never work out, mostly due to the fact that it never would work out. So to find myself missing him is a new thing for me, or more like a revisited thing. Something I had forgotten that I felt once upon a time but somehow the distance seemed to literally pull on a heart string and open a chamber filled with longing. A surprise because it is not a feeling I expected to possess. Not just for him or so much for him, though I do find myself really missing him, but for a lot of things in my life. It’s a weird feeling, like a deep rooted regret of things not said or actions not taken. It literally makes my heart feel heavy. It feels like I have left home for an undetermined amount of time, though I know my return date. At the same time, I don’t know if I want to return home.
I’ve also decided that I’m not the only person who over analyzes life. In those moments when a group of people sit in silence and everyone seems to be looking at some invisible, stationary, hypnotic object everyone is thinking about things in their life. Not that I can ever prove this because even if I decide to be honest in answering the “what are you thinking about?” question, it doesn’t guarantee that other people will make such a commitment and when I ask the question I will only get the answer of “nothing”. The nothing answer I have concluded comes from three roads. The first is the embarrassment road, when a person is left to think or day dream about whatever they want to and then are pulled out by someone trying to inch their way into their minds they are reluctant to admit what they were thinking about so they go for the stock answer, “nothing”; the second road is that when asked they have no idea how to word it, there are so many different thoughts swimming around in their head and they are quickly visiting each one when interrupted and they have no clue how to answer so they say, “nothing”; and finally the third road is the “none of your damn business” road, at which point it’s best not to pursue delving into that individual’s mind.
I just think that for the most part people think about life in general and how they’ve come to where they are at, and as an outsider I have to wonder, “Are they happy?” Has life left them content? I wonder is what they have what they expected from life? Do they feel short-changed or is everything as it should be? You look at people’s faces when they are “zoning out” and it’s not like the norm is having a smirk steal across their face, but they are straight faced and you just have to wonder what is making them so somber?
It makes me think, what is happiness? Can it even be defined? Can it be attained? Is happiness simply something to be hoped for, dreamed about? Have we focused so much on what happiness is to us that when we do not obtain it we are miserable? Maybe the lack of happiness is just within ourselves. If we are unhappy we need to change what we think happiness is. That’s something that I know I will need to work on.
Another thing, why do you whisper when there is no chance people will hear you? There was a couple sitting in the middle of the terminal, no one was around them for three to four rows at least and they were very close together while whispering something. Is the whisper for the intimacy? Because you could have just talked in a low voice, no one would have heard you over the roar of planes taking off, the crying of babies from unseen places, and the regular hustle and bustle of the airport that seems to echo off of the walls.
Oh and another random thought from sitting in the airport, when I die I want my voice box and my lungs removed so I don’t make any noise if for some reason I am stored on the bottom of a plane and my lungs compress and air passes over my windpipes, sounding like a depressed and lonely corpse, just in case I kick the bucket anytime soon, or especially while I am away from home. Didn’t happen to see a coffin on the flight home, however, I was reading a book where one of the main characters had to sit in the cargo of the plane and thought she was going crazy because she could hear someone moaning. Then she came to realize it was the coffin and she freaked out thinking the person wasn’t dead and the pilot told her that with dead bodies in air the lungs compress or depress causing air to move over the vocal chords. Could I please just be silent once I’m dead?