Half My Heart in Montana

**Based on true events**

I watched Bozeman whirl beneath me as I took off from the airport. We climbed high, high into the early morning sky. My hands gripped the armrests so hard, my knuckles turned pale. I chewed on my bottom lip. Inside my chest, my heart raced. My anxiety always peaked during take off, I don’t know why. Landing is a breeze, no problem. But take off? It sends my mind soaring, racing through all the terrible things that could happen. Engine failure, being the most common one I worried about. 

The panic was a good distraction from the emotions I felt. I was feeling sad, angry, disappointed all at once. Sad, because why couldn’t this be my life? Angry, because why couldn’t this be my life? Disappointed, because why couldn’t this be my life? I was so happy, the happiest I had been in years, and now I return back to dreary Tennessee where I never belonged, leaving half my heart in Montana

See, I had arrived a week ago, late on a Wednesday night. He met me at the bottom of the escalators. I didn’t notice him at first but once I did, when I stepped off, I squealed and ran into his arms. He smelled like fresh sea water and clary sage. I breathed him in deeply. His arms were tightly wrapped around me. His chin rested on top of my head. I could’ve cried in that moment but I didn’t; instead, I pulled away from him and looked up, beaming, and he was, too. We walked together to the baggage claim. He held my hand as we walked to the car and kissed me before I got in. And once in, he rested his hand on my thigh as he drove through Bozeman, lights twinkling in the night, to his home, a humble apartment. 

We talked a bunch of nonsense. I rambled about the airports, how proud I was that I didn’t panic once–Not once! He laughed at my silliness and I swelled each time. 

This morning, when he dropped me off, he stalled big time, wanting to look at all the pictures and exhibits, all while holding my hand. And when it was finally time for us to part, he pulled me to him. “I had a great time. I hope you did, too,” he said sweetly. 

“I did,” I managed past the lump in my throat. He pulled apart from me, holding my face in his hands and he leaned his head down, kissing me softly. I didn’t want to let go. 

“Text me before you board, okay?” He said, staring into my eyes. 

I nodded. That’s all I could do. Tears threatened to fall any second. And when it was finally time for me to go and cross the line into security, I squeezed his hand tightly in mine. We kissed one last time and I watched how his eyes fell after we parted. “Don’t forget to text me,” he said quietly. 

I nodded again. 

And I walked away. 

And now, sitting in this plane, hundreds of feet above sea level, I replay that moment over and over in my mind. He was so sweet, so kind, so funny–he was a thousand times better than I thought he’d be. We went to Yellowstone, saw Old Faithful, some elk and bison and a wolf, and a moose in Idaho. We stayed overnight in Idaho at an AirBnB outside of Driggs, in Felt. It was a farmhouse, there were horses and corgis, one of which tried getting into our car. I remember watching how gentle he was with the dogs, how happy he was to see them, how his lips parted and he called them over. And I imagined then, as I imagined now, about how beautiful that would be if that was our life. 

I had never been fully understood by anyone in my life. Never felt as safe with anyone in my life. He knew me completely, loved me completely, and cherished me every bit as much as I cherished him. It’s so beautiful. It’s pure. Loving him is the purest emotion I’ve ever felt. It wasn’t just love or hunger, it was admiration, it was wonder, it was sacred. 

But now I am in this plane, on my way to Chicago where I will then land and leave an hour later in a flight back to Chattanooga. I chewed my nails. 

“A nervous flier?” A voice said beside me. 

I turned my head to see a kindly older lady knitting. She smiled at me. 

“Oh. Yes. Just during take off.” I chuckled nervously. I relaxed my grip on the armrests.

“I understand. I remember back in the old days when there was no security. We were so naive then, weren’t we?” She said lightly, continuing to knit. 

“I suppose so. I never thought about what airports or airplanes were like before 9/11.”

“It was like the wild west,” she laughed. “Every man for himself. I remember watching the news about D. B. Cooper. You know about him?” I nodded. “What an interesting fellow. I like to believe he lived and got away with it.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

“Is this your first time?”

“No. No, I’ve been on planes plenty of times before.”

“What were you doing in Montana?”

“Visiting my boyfriend,” I said and the color rose in my cheeks. My boyfriend. 

“Oh, how nice. I remember being your age, dating, feeling pretty. What a time,” she laughed. “Believe it or not I was quite the looker back in my day.”

“I’m sure. You’re beautiful now.”

“You’re too kind. I was visiting my daughter. She lives in Big Sky. Moved out here two years ago for a job.”

“What kind of job?”

“She’s an architect. She loved it so much when she moved here, she stayed.”

“Interesting.”

“Yes. I would’ve never pictured her doing it when she was a child. She was such a free spirit. She loved nature and animals, I would’ve sworn she’d be a zoologist or something. But no, she settled on something practical. That’s her father in her. He was practical and realistic. I suppose she got her free spiritedness from me,” she chuckled. “I was a bit of a hippie back in my day. Floral dresses, daisy crowns, LSD, and rock n’ roll. Oh, what a time! You’re generation…you have nothing that compares to it.”

I smiled. I liked her. 

“But your boyfriend, tell me about him. What’s he like?”

“He’s very sweet. Kind. Compassionate. Intelligent. Strong. He’s everything good in this world.”

“That’s sweet.”

“He’s a pretty good cook which is a good thing because I can’t cook for the life of me.”

“You’ll learn.”

“And he’s charming. So charming. He made me blush just by looking at me.”

“Those are the best kinds.”

“He’s special. They don’t make men like him very often.”

“You’re a lucky gal.”

“Yeah. I am. I really am,” I looked out the window. We were climbing high above the mountains now. 

“Do yourself a favor and keep him close. Lots of ladies would die for a man like that.”

“I will.”

“But always do your fair share of work, too. Don’t want him getting weary.”

“I will do that, too.” I rolled my head around to look at her. Her glasses were low on her nose, her eyes were intent on her knitting. Her yarn was a pretty mustard yellow, squares of it attached to a sage green. “What are you making?”

“A blanket. My daughter surprised me with a pregnancy.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I’m very excited to be a grandmother. But she won’t tell me the gender yet so I figured, yellow and green are gender neutral colors and they go together. So I started knitting this yesterday.”

“Just yesterday? Wow, you’ve made a lot of progress.”

“Well, she worked all of yesterday. Before then, we went to Glacier National Park. Truly gorgeous place, you should go next time you make it out here.”

“Will do.”

“What did you do on your trip?”

“We went to Yellowstone. And explored some in Idaho. I had the best food at this little pub in Driggs. It was a nice time.”

“Sounds like it. We went to Yellowstone last year when I was out here. Beautiful place but it’s got nothing on Glacier.”

“I bet.”

“How did you two meet?”

“Online,” I blushed. “It’s been a whirlwind ever since.”

“Very modern of you. He sounds like a keeper. I bet your parents are happy.”

“They are.”

“Good. I was overjoyed when my Mary Beth found her Joseph. It’s a pleasure, and a gift, to find somebody in this life.”

“I agree.”

“So do your best to keep him. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be. But if it isn’t, then it isn’t, and you’ll have to be okay with that, too.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ma’am. I like that.”

“Just a habit I picked up living in the south. I’m from Maine originally.”

“Oh how nice, I’m vacationing in Maine with a couple girlfriends in August. We’ll be doing seal watching in Bar Harbor.”

“Bar Harbor is lovely. Make sure you have plenty of bug spray with you though.”

“Good thought, I’ll be sure to do that. Thank you.”

I smiled at her and rolled my head back around to look out the window. We were above the clouds now and sunlight shone through the thick pane of glass. I rolled the blinder down a little and closed my eyes. And I faded away into sleep and I dreamt of him. 

And when I woke up, the plane had landed, the older lady was gone, and I was alone. I slowly got up and walked the thin aisle down to the exit. I smiled politely at the stewardess. And I was left in the stark reality that life couldn’t always be as perfect as it had been the last week, and half my heart was in Montana.