Written

Chapter 16

When I wake up on Sunday morning, I almost throw up. I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this, I repeat to myself as I brush my teeth and get dressed. This was a terrible idea, I can't do this.
Once I get some coffee in my system, the mantra changes. Maybe I can do this. I might be able to do this. There is a slight possibility that I might be able to possibly do this.

My hands are shaking, physically shaking as they grip the coffee mug. I take several deep, calming breaths. This is the beginning of the rest of my life, and I am ready.
My flight to St. Louis doesn't leave until 11 a.m., so I take my time getting ready. The shower water relaxes me and it takes everything in me to step out of it. I turn the shower water off and leave the tiny but familiar bathroom. I am safe there, familiar. I've never been subjected to such a drastic change in my life, so every small thread that I must cut pains me.
Getting ready seems to take me forever, but it is only 8 a.m. when I check the clock again. I use the extra time to say goodbye to the apartment, my life for the past two years. I shut all the doors, turn off all the lights. I never loved this apartment, but now I do. It is true that you don't know what you have until it's gone. Technically I can come back to this apartment at any time, but for the time being, it's gone. Or I'm gone, really.

I sit on the couch, allowing myself to cry, but no tears come. I am still shaking, and I've given up on trying to calm that. I may very well be shaking for the next however many months of my life. I collect myself and stand up, using my cell phone to call a taxi.
To be honest, I hadn't even known that Atlanta offered a taxi service until a few days ago when I called. I didn't want to park my car at the airport and rack up thousands of dollars in parking fees while I was away, and I hadn't wanted to ask my mother to drop me off. Since I only live a short few miles away from the city's outskirts, it takes less than fifteen minutes for the taxi to arrive. When I get the call, I am almost paralyzed with fear. This is it, I am really doing this. I am really leaving.
There's no turning back. I force myself to put one foot in front of the other, dragging my two suitcases behind me and my purse slung over one shoulder. Once the suitcases are in the hall, I turn back to face the apartment for one last look. Momentarily I wonder who I will be when I next return here. Will I change? Will it be for the better? With one last deep breath, I flick the light switch and lock the door behind me.

It all feels very final, but I know it's just a product of my fear. The cab ride to the airport is quiet and anxious. A whole new anxiety settles in as I remember that I've never flown alone before.
The Atlanta airport happens to be one of the largest and most complex airports in the country. The taxi driver pulls up to the airport curb and helps me unload my suitcases. As I turn away, he calls after me to wish me luck. It is kind and comforting, especially since he does not know what I'm about to head into.
The actual process of checking in my bags and locating my gate is not as complicated as I thought it would be. It is nearly 9:30 as I board the underground train that will take me to Gate 9A, which will take me straight onto the plane that will take me straight into St. Louis. The sight that awaits me at the gate stops me in my tracks. Tears immediately spill down my face and all composure that I had managed to gain is lost.

Ryan, my mother, Gail, Catherine, and Mike are all sitting there, waiting to see me off.
I had thought that those goodbyes had already been said, but seeing them standing in front of me now, I realize that I need them for this. And they had known that, of course they had. They know me better than I know myself. I run into their arms, letting them hold me and comfort me. I know they will miss me, I know they probably need comfort too, but they let this be about me.
I sit in the chair next to Ryan and across from Gail, holding my mother's hand like a child. They entertain me with travel stories, family tales, anything to keep my mind away from the terror of my immediate future. In my head, I constantly remind myself that I made this choice. This is what I wanted, this is good for me. As the plane boards section by section, I feel my resolve strengthen. My row is finally called, and I hug everyone. They will never know what it meant to me, having them here today. It was exactly what I needed but something I would have never asked for. After hugs and cheek kisses are exchanged, I take a step back to take them all in one more time. My family. Tears pool in my eyes as I press my fingers to my lips, blow them all a kiss, and turn my back on them.
This is the part of the day when I wish they hadn't come to surprise me. I hadn't anticipated having to literally turn my back and walk away from them. I cannot look back, for fear that if I do, I will never leave. I step into the long tunnel and finally board the plane.
I was lucky enough to score a window seat, and the woman next to me looks friendly but she shows no signs of wanting to interact, which is fine by me. I stare out the window as passenger after passenger boards the flight, wondering if this plan ride is taking any of them into something so life-changing. I doubt it. I grip the armrests as the plane finally begins to move, gathering speed and then taking off. It is rough and jerky, and I close my eyes until it is over. As soon as the plane reaches cruising altitude, I slide the window shade up. Clouds extend for miles underneath me in every direction. The sky is bluer than I have ever seen it, and for the first time in my life, I feel truly free. The feeling is indescribable. I feel like I'm doing the right thing, something that feels this liberating can't be wrong.