The Plane Romance - 11
How much are you willing to give? How much are you willing to not take back? How long will you stare at a phone waiting for them to call. To give you so much as a yes or no. How long? When will you say enough is enough, that the days you waited were enough, that what you gave was enough? Are you chasing that idea of love so much that you can’t let go? Are you so scared of loneliness that you are unwilling to ask for more? Are you? Answer me damn it!
Stop looking at your phone, she isn’t going to call. You told her your father has cancer but she isn’t going to offer you any response. So stop waiting! Stop telling yourself five more minutes, stop making excuses for her. Just stop.
That pain in your fist, that is real. That sinking feeling in your gut, that is real. The sweat is real. The excuses you are making for her are not real. None of that is real! Get that through your thick skull!
Raam was talking to himself, making just trying make himself understand the situation he avoided. Eventually the sun always sets on parts of our lives, we have to let go. His back slid down the cement wall as his ass hit the cement flooring. His breathing was labored, his shirt sweat through, his fists covered in blood.
“I have to move on. I…I…I…” He couldn’t repeat himself, the words evading him. His head slouched against the wall as his body succumbed to exhaustion.
Raam didn’t wait around for Miciah to awaken. He found himself in front of a brick building, Derrick’s Foster Home hung above the entrance; without dally or pause he walked in with his head held high. The blond hair, blue eyed, college receptionist greeted him. She was likely a solitary girl, had nice curves and a sweatshirt with three Greek letters on it.
“I was looking to start the process for adoption.”
She rampaged through one of her drawers and pulled out a packet and clip board, “Fill out this packet and we will go from there.” She didn’t take more than a glance at Raam before returning to her book. It was only with a curt glance but Raam couldn’t help but chuckle at the title, “A Lover’s Remorse”.
“Good read?” He asked grabbing a pen from the mug.
“Really good, a really short story, but the characters are so realistic it pulls you in.” She praised her eyes still not lifted from the pages.
“I always felt the symbolism is what carried the story.”
“Symbolism is nice, but without the character I wouldn’t make it through the first read to find the symbols in the second.”
“Very true. If only the grammar was better, maybe then the book would be a best seller.”
“It criminal the second book he wrote, ‘Liar’s Requiem’, never got more publicity. Everything was so well done.”
“The theme wasn’t popular enough to be mainstream. No matter how well done, without an audience, books will never be popular. People don’t like being attacked with every word.”
“Damn criminal, the first-person narration of a man pointing the flaws of main characters and how striving for such ideals lead us to ruin. Masterful, just masterful, all while making us sympathize with a man who has no right being forgiven.”
Raam laughed at her passionate explanation of the book, “The man is amazing author, Raam Malum.”
“He really is, I hear he is young too. Love to pick his brain on the symbols in his stories. There are so many and even after so many rereads, I feel I’m still missing some.” She wished her chin held in her hands and eyes glistening.
“Here is the packet back.” Raam handed over the packet.
“Thanks! We will-“ She didn’t finish her sentence as her eyes widened.
“Pleasure to meet you.” Raam offered his hand with a teeth filled smile.
“Mr. Malum, oh my god!” She got out the words in a fluster.
Raam laughed, “Please call me Raam, I’m still young.”
She shook his hand and handed over the book for him to sign.
“Thank you Raam! Your writing is amazing!”
The two exchanged more formalities, before Raam asked to be allowed to walk around the premise. He did so after leaving a form of identification at the desk, his driver’s license. It was finally happening; he was finally taking the next steps in his life. Was he done avoiding everything? Had the pain subsided? His phone was off, his mind was calm, everything felt right. Maybe his reasoning for now doing it was wrong, but he was taking his first steps to a new life.
This is what people do, they change their lives after something traumatic happens to someone they care about. Which to the other people in the world, who stop and think before taking such drastic choices, will see as wrong. His father is dying, and he only ever wished a few things of his son, happiness and a grandchild.
As Raam found his way to the main area of the foster home, he saw a cluster of children playing with a wide variety of toys.
Seeing them all so happy brought a smile to his face, the joys of being young.
As his glaze passed over them all it paused on a familiar face. He did a double take to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. He shouldn’t be here; he was supposed to have a family.
There in the middle of the cluster of children sat Umbra.