First Flight

34,000 miles above sea level and I’m looking around me, wondering why I am alone at this moment of my life. And no, it isn’t because of the two love birds seated in front of me, locking arms, gisting, and laughing above the engine noise. No, it isn’t because I am alone on this trip, and in my seat, only flanked by a Chinese on the aisle. But rather, it is because it’s been a very lonely moment of my life, and I’m being fair on those who have chosen to be true friends indeed.

Few days before this one was my first flight, and I had a whole lot of thoughts and emotions. In six days, I’ve had five flights, and on one of the days, two flights. The whole experience kept hovering over my head and I wanted to share. Share, yes, but not just to anybody.

There was a version I had for those who cared to know. But it was an abridged version, one my reputation could accommodate. But there was more. There was another one. Another version. Another one in which all my guards were down. There, I was silly. I was anxious. I was excited. I was happy. There I was free. There I wanted to let off the childlike experience.

I wanted to tell her how I had looked forward to flying all these while, and how I felt as the plane lifted in the air.  Like “Baby I flew, for the first time, I was in a fucking aeroplane”. I wanted to remind her how much I love the skies, dream about it every night, and how my favorite super power is to leap into the air and soar throw the clouds. Oh, what of the subtle dizziness as we gained heights, hovering round distant roof tops? Or the fact that I was low-key hoping we’ll meet some turbulence? Crazy, right?

I kept wondering what lay up beyond, yet was fascinated by the view from the clouds. It was beautiful tracing the lengths of those mighty rivers and looking down over the heights of those mountains.

I wish I had one I could give that full gist. One who would care deeply enough, and have the time also. Not just a momentary arrangement. One who could be a custodian of these emotions, who could keep them in a collection-a collection dear to her. One who will be fascinated by the child in this man project. One in whose presence there’s no fear of judgment. One with whom I could be vulnerable, with no thought of ridicule. Just that child-like sacarstic nuisances of two sweet nothings.


Maybe these are dreams, expectations, wishes, or desires. But these days, I fear – I fear they are mere fantasies reserved for blockbusters and best selling books. Life is not a fairytale.

I’m just here waiting to see what Life will bring.
And perhaps, be there to play my part when the time comes.

Las las, ‘we’ will be alright.
‘Willn’t’ we?
We will.

I am The ImisiOluwa

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