The Difference Between Getting and Needing

t w e n t y - f i v e

out of sight but you're
not out of my m i n d . . .

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The minute we checked into our hotel was the last time I was fully sober on this trip.

Actually that was a lie, because I had a drink in the Phoenix airport where we had a two hour layover. By that point we had already been flying for six hours and had six more to go, so I was slightly (and by slightly I meant absolutely) going mad. I always knew flights to Hawaii were seemingly endless, but nobody warned me just how perennial it'd be.

So I ordered an Old Fashioned at the bar near our terminal, killing the two hour wait we had between flights and hoping that the whole "hair of the dog" aspect would help me avoid getting too hungover after the night out I had with Collin. Sutton and Koa joined me, but since it was barely noon due to the time change of flying halfway across the country, they classically ordered mimosas. When the bartender handed over my whiskey cocktail, Sutton sent me a repulsed look as if to say really, getting drunk already? I just knocked it back and slept for most of the second flight.

The first day, I was severely jet lagged. My body was still six hours ahead of itself stuck on Philly time, knowing that at home it was nine o'clock at night but presently in Honolulu it was three PM. I wasn't blind drunk nor was I clearheaded, which meant all rational decisions were out the window. All I wanted was to be asleep on the beach, but that wasn't an option.

Sutton and Koa immediately had to meet with someone coordinating the wedding and myself being the new Maid of Honor meant I had to tag along against my will. I couldn't remember anything that was said. You couldn't pay me enough money to focus. I was likely the worst makeshift Maid of Honor there ever was, but my sister really didn't have any other options. It was me or nothing, and I reminded her of that every single time she just so happened to forget.

The following days were a healthy mix of work and play; a majority of the time we spent lounging on the beach or doing some touristy Hawaii things that locals would recommend to us while a tiny bit of our time was dedicated to pre-wedding planning. Once everything was practically set in stone and all that was left to do was wait until the big day, I skillfully avoided my family to get a few moments of alone time whenever possible.

My last true day of freedom before everyone else arrived – Collin, extended family, Sutton's friends, and of course the Monahan's – was the best day I had yet. On Wednesday, I woke up early enough to watch the sunrise on Waikiki Beach just outside of our hotel, walked down the street to a breakfast cafe by myself to eat, then parked my ass back on the beach for the rest of eternity.

No one found me, no one bothered me, and it was the most peace I'd had to myself in months. Until my phone rang with a FaceTime call.

I could have ignored it, but the very first thought that crossed my mind was Ziggy. If Collin was calling me with an emergency and I didn't pick up, I'd never forgive myself for it. Frantically with a sudden racing heart, I propped myself up on my elbows and fumbled through my beach bag for my phone.

Predictably, it was at the very bottom, buried under bottles of sunscreen and my portable phone charger and cord. I wriggled it out of its place and when my eyes adjusted to the screen against the sun, I saw Nadia's name. Before I missed the call, I accepted it and the first thing to pop up were her offensively prominent cheekbones and wide bleached smile.