The Quiet Sense of Something Lost

Jumat, April 23, 2021

I used to be a fan of flying...

but now, I really wish I could avoid it at my best.

Ever since I was a baby, our family used to travel to the neighbouring city with airplane. Clouds were such a fascinating view for my wandering soul, at least that's what my mom said because I was too young I barely reckon any memory of it. Years later, the government built a train railway, so we took the train for its cheaper tickets. Not long after, the flight route were closed due to lack of passengers.

Then came the time where we used to drop my father to the airport for his business trip. Again, the busy airport, the plane, it fascinates me. Now I sure do remember how it look back then. I made a wish to fly again someday and see for myself. And so I did. For vacation, college, and job interviews.

Fast forward to 2018, I flew for my first business trip. I didn't lie, I almost cry. When I checked in alone in my five-star hotel room (paid by the office, of course), I called my mom and finally cried. I told her how spacious the room is and how my clients treated me so damn well. Please don't get me wrong, we came for a decent family but a five-star hotel and five-star treatment is a luxury for me.

But shit happened. Depression happened, to be exact. I can see now how heavy the mental pressure I was carrying since years ago, like my four-wheel luggage and loaded-with-laptop-and-paperwork backpack, hopping from one airport to another, catching flights, collecting miles, while stealing time to find joy in it.... in which I failed.

What I took as fascinating now feels like a burden.

Yes, I am so lucky I have had the chance to travel and glanced at the tiny bit of this world. But that's that, a glance. And now, when I finally have enough courage to open my eyes and ready to take all the views in, not a mere glance, all my mental courage are drained.

Years of flying traumatized me.

Especially since I have experienced my worst flight ever, flying from PGK to... I have no idea, I totally forgot where since it was a connecting flight to my destination, PLM. The weather was so bad, thirty minutes felt like an eternity. Even the pilot keep talking to us through the whole flight, telling to embrace for huge clouds we cannot avoid. The image of how the passengers were screaming and praying loudly still clear in my mind. Funny enough, a fellow passenger beside me, a man in his early 50, were sleeping soundly during all the entire rollercoaster journey. I should've asked for what he took.

Now I almost cried in every takeoffs, a slight turbulence scares me, and I cannot wait to finally land, going home, embrace my bed, and curl myself to sleep.

Now I loathe what I used to love.

I hate that fact.

I wrote this while I was in GA113, 7467 meters above sea level, flying back home from PLM to CGK, while holding my husband's hand tight my knuckles turn white.

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