ASH
I’m a liar and a fraud.
Okay, maybe that’s a little dramatic, but it’s how I feel right now. And because of that, I’m fairly convinced this flight delay is my fault. It’s like the universe is punishing me for lying to the woman sitting next to me on the plane.
I’ve never gone to a funeral before, so…
While technically true, I’m on my way to one now. I could have just told her that, but it felt like I would have been piling onto her grief and that would have been wrong. It had been on the tip of my tongue to ask where her funeral was, but that would have been an extremely awkward conversation. Like…where would I have gone with that?
Oh, your funeral is in Raleigh? So is mine! Small world!
Pathetic.
I feel really bad for her, though. That’s got to suck to be put in the position to write a eulogy for someone you didn’t particularly like. And to have the deceased’s mom ask? Yeah, there’s no way you could say no.
I have ninety minutes to kill before we start re-boarding our flight. My head is pounding, and I just wish I could have a few minutes of peace and quiet.
That’s when I spot the airport lounge that is conveniently located right across from our gate. It’s definitely better than sitting around the gate or hiking to the food court, so I head in.
It’s a bit crowded, but not nearly as loud as it was out in the terminal. I peruse the small buffet and help myself to a sandwich, some pasta salad, and a bag of chips before getting a Coke from the bar. I walk around while carefully balancing my food, drink, and carry-on, but it looks like every seat is taken. I’m about to sit on the floor when I see a small room toward the back and hope it has extra seating.
It does, and my seatmate is there curled up in one of those big pod seats, staring intently at her laptop. She doesn’t see me and I don’t want to disturb her, so I grab my own pod and sit down with a weary sigh. I’m exhausted from working late, but looking forward to the vacation that’s going to start after the funeral.
I’ve been in Denver on business for the last three weeks, and I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed tonight. Although, that really makes no sense since in a few days I’ll be packing up again to leave for vacation. Still, I think I just need a few days in my own space to decompress before taking off with the guys. I don’t even know all the details; I was just told we’re going to the beach and everything was being taken care of.
Am I worried? Not really. My friends know how hard I’ve been working and because of all the traveling, I’ve been kind of hard to pin down. So when the opportunity arose to get away and just relax on a beach with zero effort needed from me? That was a no-brainer. I’m hoping it’s someplace with a pool, a bar, and room service. I’ve been staying in some pretty basic hotels lately and—not to sound like too much of a diva—but I kind of deserve a little TLC from the hospitality industry.
Most of the time, I am completely low-maintenance. But lately, I’m just burned out. Being a network architect has me working alone and sitting in front of a screen for a ridiculous number of hours. While other people enjoy sitting and scrolling on their phones in their free time, I prefer to be outside doing something physical or just talking to people. Back in high school, I was the nerdy guy, the guy most people didn’t know existed.
Then came college.
I had a growth spurt, finally got brave enough to get contact lenses—although I still prefer glasses—and suddenly I was hanging out with the cool kids. I know I shouldn’t have cared, but it felt good to finally be seen and have a social life. My college roommate was really the one responsible for the social life part. He was the guy who was always the center of attention and the life of the party. That first week we roomed together, he gave me my space, but then one night he was like, “Ash, we’re going out!”
For a minute, I didn’t know who he was talking to. No one had ever called me Ash before. My name is Sebastian. It’s a family name. If anyone were ever to shorten it, I always imagined it would be Seb, but nope. My roommate went with Ash and it stuck.
So there I was with a new name and a new look, and I was suddenly able to create this entirely new persona. It was awesome. That one sentence—that one night—changed my life. I must have done something right for the universe to smile down on me finally, but I also made sure not to gush too hard and let anyone know how big of a deal the whole thing was for me. Actually, I never thanked him.
And now I never can.
Yeah, guess whose funeral I’m going to?
My roommate’s.
Here’s the thing—he dropped out of college after the first semester. It wasn’t a big surprise because he never went to class and never seemed interested in school at all. But we kept in touch mainly because he had a few other buddies in our dorm and he’d come and hang out at least once a month with us until graduation. Then it turned into random texts or comments on social media. I just found out a few days ago that he died and even though I was already planning on heading home to Raleigh, that cemented it for me.
Maybe now I’ll be able to thank him posthumously.
That’s a thing, right?
Until now, I never really gave the whole thing much thought, like…I was pretty lame back then. How freaking dorky would I have looked for thanking this guy for finding me friends?
The answer? Very. I would have looked very dorky.
And, let’s be real…he had to know, right? I mean, I was extremely timid and shy until the night he took me out. It wasn’t like I completely transformed overnight, but it was suddenly like arriving in Oz—my life had been black and white and it suddenly became technicolor.
Anyway, here I am—going home and going to a funeral.
I carefully lean forward to see if my seatmate is still typing. She is, but she’s also crying.
