Pooner Diaries: flight home

Birdboy · May 29, 2012

I settled into my seat by the window. It had been another great trip. I'd successfully made the sale, and even managed to catch up with some old friends. And of course, I was able to meet up with a pretty lady or two. But now, my feathered alter ego was packed away safely in my suitcase, along with the fancy clothes he wears and the cheap cell phone he uses. I was ready to take flight again. Not a flight of fancy and fantasy fulfillment this time, but a flight of another kind. A flight home, and back to my dull normal Norman life.

I thought of her again. Oh, how could I not. I had already been thinking about her all morning. I sighed. I'm glad I'm leaving, for she's much too dangerous. I was the Icarus of legend, flying on my wings of feathers and wax, slipping the surly bonds of the earth and flying high. Flying recklessly close to the heat and luminescence that she was. But I recall that Icarus fell to his death, getting too close to the sun's incandescence. The feathers on his wings fell away, one at a time, until he was revealed as just an ordinary wingless man, at heights that weren't meant to be for us mere mortals.

She brought me to those heights. And I leave this place with the memories of flying high with her. She worked hard, so terribly hard, to give me what I wanted. But that was my fantasy, not hers. My memories will be of the role she played, from behind that pretty mask. I unleashed volley after volley of my charms. Kind words, small deeds, subtle caresses, soft kisses. But I know they clattered uselessly to the ground, deflected by the the armor she wore to protect her heart.

I leave this place, my heart touched by her. And I feel a bittersweet sadness, because I know I'll probably never touch hers. I will have to settle for the touch of her skin, my arms around her. I know I should be kind. I shouldn't harass her, make her job more complicated than it is. She gives so much of herself already. I have no right to ask for more. I need to be a gentleman. I really need to leave her alone. But at the same time, I remember that momentary flicker in her eyes, that said her armor might not be so impenetrable after all. And a small part of me would love to see that again.

But that would have to be a dilemma for another day. I looked back at the city skyline through the airplane window. She's out there, somewhere. The airplane started to roll.