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As I stir my margarita at the token Mexican restaurant in the Dallas/FW airport, I realize 1) being a single girl in the airport will get you so many pitied looks, 2) crying in front of strangers on the skyrail is perfectly acceptable and everyone just stares out the window to let you have your moment 3) traveling alone is an experience everyone must have. Preferably when you're 22 and just had your heart broken.

Yes it's true you can be alone in a crowded room; Jack's Mannequin said so. You can feel alone sitting next to your best friend drinking more margaritas at Torchy's Tacos. You can feel alone on an airplane sandwiched between two business men that seem exhausted with their lives. You can feel alone in a relationship with your significant other of the last year and a half and you'll feel alone when that person is no longer your person.

The point is to get on the plane, go to the place, experience the things, make the memories, then go back home and face whatever you weren't strong enough to. Drink too much. Run. Run until you think you can't anymore and then do another mile. Exhaustion is preferable to sudden onset sadness. Smile through the memories that hit you like a pound of bricks. Laugh when you remember something that makes you feel like you got sucker punched in the throat. Distract yourself. Read. Read everything you can get your hands on. When people ask what happened, say you don't know and walk away. Or run into his friend at a bar, start crying, and proceed to take fireball shots.

There is no right way to do this. To mourn someone that isn't dead. It's anything but graceful.

But you can get started by drinking alone in the airport. When your straw is sucking at air, you'll realize sometimes silence will teach you so much more than anyone ever could. Then you'll get up and board your plane all by your damn self. This story is about you.

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