When LAyover decides your fate
It almost felt as if I am leaving a part of myself as I boarded my flight from JFK to LAX that night. I loved New York City with an unvarnished fervor and yet there I was seated in my inadequately spaced cheap domestic flight seat, unwilling, sad and scared. The flight had a layover at ORD with enough time for boredom and binge eating. I bought myself some food which I had no interest in eating, easily distracted by my phone only to see a “What's up” flashing on the screen. And I swear to god if it wasn’t for the hilarious bio, I would never respond and maybe my life would be better. At least I thought that a month back. At this point, I am not sure about it. In a city where I loved nothing and regretted my move every single day, there I was engaged in an endless exchange of banter with a person 2000 miles away. Every time their name popped up on my phone, my heart raced. In an explicable childlike way. But when was just texting fun? I asked, “Maybe we should meet at som