August 2010. Dark night. I had a midnight flight to catch. I can still remember how excited I was. I had my bags packed wholeheartedly and impatiently drag my body to the airport. I sang in my head, some happy songs. I was ready to take sometime off and escape halfway around the world. That night, I enjoyed waiting in the airport.
August 2012. It was a cold morning. I had an early flight to catch. I can still remember how I woke up halfheartedly and somehow sluggishly drag my body to the airport. I cursed in my head, multiple times. I refused to give up my bed and come back to work again. That day, I hated waiting in the airport.
August 2013 . I wait.
There’s always something about airport.
There’s always something about waiting in the airport.
Waiting to be back again. Waiting to fly away.
Waiting to be home again. Waiting to escape away.
“Hello. Hi there. Welcome back. Welcome home.” “Best of luck. See you. Goodbye.” Tears, hugs, screams, waves, kisses.
Life, is a series of arrivals and departures
What I really have, lies in between. Between hello and goodbye. Between homecoming and farewell. Between arrival and departure. What I really have, lies in between. You, lies in between.
And I wait, while I’m in between.
For the next arrival. For the next departure. For you.
SpongeBob : What do you usually do when I’m gone?
Patrick : Wait for you to come back.
– i –
That short period of time, in the waiting lounge, with unsweetened tea and menthol aerosol, the contemplation begins. Remembering all things that left behind and things that wait in the other side. Remembering the reasons of going away and the reasons to come back again. In that short period of time. Waiting..