by J. Espíno R.
When I left, I cried in the airplane seated in between an older woman with white hair and a younger woman with blonde hair. Departure music played from my earphones - Leaving on a Jet Plane. You told me you were not going to drop me off at the airport when we disagreed about me moving to San Diego. At the check-in gate our eyes fidgeted at each other from anxiety (you came through). Walking towards security alone I inhaled the remnants of your breath that lingered on my lips to preserve a part of you in me. Although we've had our disappointments and sadness before, in that moment seated in the middle aisle, I grieved; there was no hope for our future.
6S
J. Espíno R. was not accepted into an MFA Creative Writing program. She still feels it was unfair.