Two strangers turning into dust
It was so long ago that I posted about a moment I would have when I had to say good bye to someone, who didn't know at the time, that I loved. Tomorrow, he comes back. And since then, so much has happened but for the good.
I remember so clearly of saying good bye to him. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. I remember him standing there, holding me, looking at me, and telling me everything was going to okay. I started to cry and then he started. He gave me one last kiss and hugged me like he would never again, turned to his family and said goodbye then walked over to check in. I watched him go inside and he turned around one last time, waved, and then the sliding doors closed. That was the last I saw him.
From there, the emails came daily, but sometimes went to once a week depending on where he was. Calls, letters, postcards. By half way, I realized one day how much I needed to tell him that I loved him and I wasn't going to be able to wait till he came back home. So one afternoon, sitting in my car at a Walmart parking lot, I told him. And he told me that he loved me too. And that he felt it before he left but he didn't want to scare me away.
It seemed since that day, we came closer. He was millions of miles away yet if I read an email, heard his voice, or looked over his writing, it was as if he was sitting right beside me.
It wasn't always perfect. There were ups and downs. Things happened over the summer where I needed him, but he wasn't there. Any time something happened, my first thought was, 'Why can't he be here..' Always. But somehow despite him not being here, and talking to him about what was bothering me, he made me feel better. Sometimes miscommunication happened too, but some how in the end - things worked itself out.
In less then 48 hours, he's going to be home. And this is how the new moment will go:
He'll come out from those sliding doors and search for familar faces. He'll eventually find them - his parents, sister, me (even though he has no idea that I'm going to be there). He'll rush over, drop his bags, and begin to hug his family. Then he'll turn to me and give me a kiss that we've both been waiting for for so long and then he'll hug me. He'll question for a slight second why I'm there but then realize it's just a surprise and he's glad it happened. I will probably get teary-eyed because I'm so happy to see him and vice versa. Then he'll take my hand, grab his bags, and we all walk out of the airport telling him how much it's good to have him home.
I remember so clearly of saying good bye to him. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. I remember him standing there, holding me, looking at me, and telling me everything was going to okay. I started to cry and then he started. He gave me one last kiss and hugged me like he would never again, turned to his family and said goodbye then walked over to check in. I watched him go inside and he turned around one last time, waved, and then the sliding doors closed. That was the last I saw him.
From there, the emails came daily, but sometimes went to once a week depending on where he was. Calls, letters, postcards. By half way, I realized one day how much I needed to tell him that I loved him and I wasn't going to be able to wait till he came back home. So one afternoon, sitting in my car at a Walmart parking lot, I told him. And he told me that he loved me too. And that he felt it before he left but he didn't want to scare me away.
It seemed since that day, we came closer. He was millions of miles away yet if I read an email, heard his voice, or looked over his writing, it was as if he was sitting right beside me.
It wasn't always perfect. There were ups and downs. Things happened over the summer where I needed him, but he wasn't there. Any time something happened, my first thought was, 'Why can't he be here..' Always. But somehow despite him not being here, and talking to him about what was bothering me, he made me feel better. Sometimes miscommunication happened too, but some how in the end - things worked itself out.
In less then 48 hours, he's going to be home. And this is how the new moment will go:
He'll come out from those sliding doors and search for familar faces. He'll eventually find them - his parents, sister, me (even though he has no idea that I'm going to be there). He'll rush over, drop his bags, and begin to hug his family. Then he'll turn to me and give me a kiss that we've both been waiting for for so long and then he'll hug me. He'll question for a slight second why I'm there but then realize it's just a surprise and he's glad it happened. I will probably get teary-eyed because I'm so happy to see him and vice versa. Then he'll take my hand, grab his bags, and we all walk out of the airport telling him how much it's good to have him home.