More so, because I really miss him. I did love him and without admitting it to myself, I still do.
I let out a big sigh. The couple next to me are awake, so I take the opportunity to get up and stretch my legs. As I wander along the aisle and to the toilets, I keep my gaze firmly on the ground. After spending the last hour reminiscing my time with David only to curse him for leaving me because I’m apparently not mature enough (highly overrated anyway, if you ask me), I don’t really feel like finding Toby and dump some guilt on top of my emotions. I look up for the toilet signs and curse some more as they’re all occupied. I do some quick maths in my head – I’m leaning against a seat in row thirty-eight, three seats each side, four in the middle… it’s not working. My head’s aching from the lack of sunshine, fresh air, and some decent food. Point is, though, eight toilets (or are there some hidden ones?) are just not enough. 
So true about the accommodations on a plane! Enjoyed the snippet…
Right – they’re always occupied when you need to go~
As claustrophobic as I am, I find it interesting that I’ve never felt unsettled by being in the tiny confines of an airplane toilet. I do, however, have to have a window seat. If I can’t look out the window, I start feeling trapped. Interesting the tricks a mind can play, especially my mind!
claustrophobia is an interesting concept. Interesting that the toilet doesn’t bother you.
Ugh, I hate airplane bathrooms…what I hate even more than that is Greyhound bus bathrooms.
Great writing!
Thank you. And yes, I agree 🙂