Today I am the girl that sits at the juice bar in Terminal five, Heathrow airport, the girl that arrived with time to sit and write, the girl who arrived to park her car exactly a minute early, the girl who had fruit salad and ice cold water for breakfast and wore her hair in a high ponytail with that linen blouse that makes her look at ‘smart casaul’ at every occasion. This is who I am today, far flung from the girl I usually I am.

When I am with others I fall into disheveled Bob, the one with the broken phone, who isn’t sure which flight she is getting until three days before and then remembers she has no way of getting there, the girl that wears short shorts in the rainy north because ‘it will be warm on the plane’. When has it ever been warm on a plane. The girl that decided the perfect place to go to bed at 7pm to get up at 2am would be at her Amercian Football playing friends house on the Saturday night that they always go to comedy night and always find some feminine company to bring back for ‘the after party’. Disheveled Bob is who I have always been and I am sure, I will always be. But when I am alone I become the other girl, the girl sipping on the detox fruit drink with pedicure and the glasses that imply she studies at Oxford, not Brookes. That is who I am to the passing stranger today and who knows who I will be tomorrow or next week. I am always Bob the lost, but when I am alone that is easy to forget as I am the only one that knows. I am not ashamed of who I am, if anything, I enjoy it but sometimes being someone else is a lot more fun, a lot easier and can make a long airport travelling day feel like the most luxurious day you’ve had for months. Travel alone, eat alone, be alone and you will understand who you are, who you want to pretend to be, and understand that watching others will  very rarely tell you anything about anyones true self. Everyone and everything has a back story, and the ones you make up in your head, they are wrong, 99.9% of the time.