Life's a bitch. It really is. Because as much as chick flicks are sometimes entertaining to watch, they suck to have to live, and this trip has been proof of that.
Don't get me wrong, I loved every minute of my time in Boston. It's such a great city, and even though I definitely didn't get to see as much as I would've liked to, I got to walk around some, including the Harvard Bridge at 2am. Plus, hello, I got to see my boyfriend, who I hadn't seen in almost two months and was kinda the reason I went out in the first place.
But no, the movie-esque shenanigans started early, about a half hour after that last blog post to be exact. My flight to Philly got cancelled around 11 because of high winds down in PA, so I had to go back to the ticket counter to see how else I could get my ass to Boston. Fortunately, there was a flight from Syracuse to Boston that had one seat left, so I got to partake in an hour-long, 40-buck cab ride with 5 complete strangers who were also supposed to be flying into Philly. But hey, I got to Boston and only about 3 hours after I normally would've. The cab ride to Syracuse was actually longer than my flight to Boston; then again, the cabbie was also pushing 80 on the highway because one girl had a 1:30 flight to catch.
We finally meet up at the airport's T station, nice long hug, the usual rom-com deal. We walked around quite a bit, ate some sushi on campus and pasta at this little place in the North End, talked about the T because we're dorks like that, we had ...other miscellaneous shenanigans... and of course our late-night walk over the bridge, which I would highly recommend doing, especially when the moon's out. We even had deep, intellectual conversations about completely useless crap.
Of course, the conflict came in the form of references to his other girlfriend, but I was good and didn't say much. As such, that will be the extent of which I cover that because it makes me sad to think about.
The goodbye was more bittersweet than baking chocolate (which I've never actually eaten but I've had 70% and that's pretty close, plus it's just a lame simile for the sake of being silly). Last night and especially this morning were awful. We ate our breakfast in silence and neither of us wanted me to go. Of course, it didn't help that he started talking, both last night and this morning on the T to the airport, about how we've stayed so close even through all the crap we've been through and how we're not going to see each other again for another month. I tried to keep my composure, but it's really hard to do when everything being said is true and dammit he started sobbing first, I couldn't help it.
(Note: this "composure" of which I speak also does not include anything that happened in either Logan, LaGuardia or back here, though some of that was a bit of an act of masochism on my part because I wanted to listen to a song on my iPod that I like because it's kindof "our song," as stupid as that sounds, and I knew it was going to make me cry but I couldn't help it.)
It sounds pretty chick-flick-ish to me. The only part missing is that scene at the end, where the couple says their last goodbyes at the airport (or train station or whatever means of transportation is used), the girl leaves, the guy runs after her through some questionably legal maneuvers, professes his love for her and they live happily ever after, the end.
But that's not how life works. Happiness is not handed to you. It takes a lot of effort, a lot of know-how and the occasional 40-buck cab ride when things go wrong. Sometimes it feels like happiness isn't worth the inevitable shitty feeling that follows when it's gone. But when it's good, it's golden, and that's the one thing that rom-coms get right.
