"Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen. I'm Steve Carson, your pilot, and on behalf of AirItalia and this flight crew, I'd like to welcome you aboard Flight 754 to Rome, Italy…"

The pilot's voice droned into a hum of static-like noise in the background. I can't believe she did that. Morosely, I looked at the empty window seat next to mine. Now, a few days later, the shock was beginning to turn into a miasma of anger and sadness. Alternating fits of rage and depression. How could she do that to me? Toss me out like an old pair of shoes? Easy, another part of my brain replied. She wasn't over Henry, and she never really wanted you. You were convenient; an easy escape from the stifling life he offered. The pilot's voice filtered back in.

"…will take about 10 hours and 27 minutes today, and weather looks good so far, so we should be in for a nice smooth flight. Please remember that there is no smoking aboard this aircraft…

I chuckled mirthlessly to myself. I didn't even smoke, but I felt like I needed something, anything to take my mind off of the horrible events of a few days ago. At this time last week, I had been eagerly anticipating this flight. Not that flying was my favorite activity in the world, but the prospect of spending an entire month in Rome and the surrounding countryside was just amazing. The thought of spending it with Betty had made me feel like the luckiest guy on earth. Had. Past tense.

My attention drifted back to the empty seat. "I care about you too," Betty had said. " But not in that way." Bullshit. You're too scared to admit it. "And I feel like if I go to Rome with you, I'm just going to be leading you on." Leading me on? Because you haven't been doing that for the last…3 months, at least?

At least you'll get a clear view out the window. And you can stretch out if you want to. I felt my own expression darken as I tried to convince myself that the fact that I was on this plane alone didn't bother me. As if her rejection wasn't bad enough, now I had only that to think of for the next 10 hours, 10 weeks, 10 months…

"Now if you'll please direct your attention to the television screens, we'll be going through the safety procedures…."

I tuned him out completely, and put on my complimentary headphones. Picking a random channel on the in-flight tv, I cranked the volume and closed my eyes, hoping I could drown my own thoughts out as the plane began to taxi on the runway.

--

It didn't work. Didn't matter that Betty was the last person I wanted to think about, or envision after I closed my eyes. She was just there. Saying it over and over again. "But not in that way…" It was tearing me up inside to think that I had let myself fall so hard, and so deeply in love with someone who could casually dismiss me like that. It didn't even mollify me to think that she had given Egg Salad his ring back. For one heart-stopping moment, I had thought she had chosen me. I thought she had chosen us.

I wanted to hate her. When she came up to me and delivered that blow, I wanted to shout, and argue, and hit something and show her how wrong she was. I wanted to kiss her like I had in the deli that day, except more punishing. She was lying and I knew it. A guy can only take so much. But I'd already given too much of myself to continue being treated like that. I didn't say anything; just stood there and fumed. And she knew I was angry when I walked away. I couldn't talk to her anymore. I was just too angry.

She tried to call me before I left. A lot, actually. I didn't answer any of her calls. Talking to her hurt too much. I knew what she was going to say. She wanted to remain 'friends.' Friends? As if that was even possible. How can a woman shatter a guy's heart and then tell him she still wants to be 'friends with him'?

My mother always taught me that I should forgive and forget, but I really didn't see that happening here. Forgiveness wasn't going to be coming for a long time, so the only thing I could do was work on forgetting. Which I suspected would also be near impossible.

I looked at my watch. 7:27am. The first of the suns rays were peeking through the clouds, and below us all I could see was ocean. We were still over the Atlantic. I wanted to get up and walk. I wanted to punch something still. I wanted to be able to sleep. I wanted to curl up and die. And the worst part was, she wasn't even feeling this. She didn't 'care about me in that way'; I was suffering alone. And on my own. In another country. I should have been feeling nothing but anticipation; excitement over this great opportunity, and all I could think was how horrible this trip was going to be now, and how I would remember it all my life because of that. Thanks, Betty. Owe you one.

I knew it would take time. But one day, I'd be over her. Right now I couldn't control how I was feeling. But luckily, I had at least one month in which to get back to my life, and my plan. The plan that she was no longer a part of. The temptation to throw the plan out the window was strong, just because it bore so much of Betty. All those good times, and bad times weren't going to magically disappear from my memory. I just had to weather this thing long enough so that they wouldn't hurt anymore when I thought of them. Or make me feel happy. I wanted to not feel anything where she was concerned.

The sun was completely up now, and below us I could see land. Europe. I had gotten here. Maybe a heartbroken, shattered man, but I had gotten here. If I could just try to put her out of my mind over the next month, Europe might be able to begin healing me. And I had news for her. If she thought we were going to 'remain friends' when I got back, she could jump off a cliff. Perversely, the vindictive part of me couldn't wait to tell her that either…