I clung to the armrests of the airplane seat as it gained enough speed and finally lifted off. This was not a trip I wanted to take, but I had to. I owed it to her. I slid back until I found a comfortable position and drifted off. I stared into space and I found myself lost deep inside my complex web of thoughts. There were no words to be spoken and there were none that could possibly comfort me. My stomach growled, it had been three days since my last decent meal. I didn't pay any attention to it for my hunger wasn't my main concern at the time. Finally overpowered by exhaustion, I fell into a deep, profound sleep.
The next morning I was awoken by a stewardess announcing it was time for breakfast. The thought of food turned my stomach. It was still dark outside when the plane landed. My watch read 5:30 a.m. Once done with the endless paperwork, I walked into a room full of eager faces. I searched through the strange faces until I recognized a familiar smile, one that I hadn't seen for two years. I dashed up to my cousin and greeted him with a proper hug. He hadn't changed a bit.
This was not my first trip to New York, but it was certainly one I would never forget. The city seemed different as we drove to the upper east side of Manhattan, I remember thinking we had landed in a strange city by mistake. Everything seemed distinctly odd. There was something different in the air and I seemed to be the only person who could perceive it. We turned on the corner of 63rd street and I recognized the old red brick apartment building. I was filled with warm memories of the holidays and the hot summer days I had spent in that apartment. It was once I was inside her apartment that it hit me like a ton of bricks. She was gone and there was no turning back. It was unbelievable, but true, I would never see her again. Panic rushed through my veins as I realized that it was real, she was dead and there was no coming back.