The Write Thing

I guess in our lifetime there will always be moments when we will be scared, moments when we will be happy, or anxious, or willing. When I am about to travel, the mix of feelings is quite unique. It was like that before you arrived. Now it is like that, but somewhat different. Regardless of the business I have somewhere else, there is you at some point…a reward to the many days we have spent apart since I last held you in my arms in a chilly night at the local airport.

The sound of your “I love you” almost got lost in the background noise, but you were still looking at me when you said it. I had to bring that moment back to my mind several times to stop the tears from flowing when I turned around to look at you and found you there, at the boarding gate, holding your hand up in the air in your farewell gesture.

The tears did not flow, because right before we parted you had said what I had hinted at the night before, when we played around the “sides of us” that are only percentages of us, and the word love was whispered as if we were speaking of others. I know we both knew it would not be long before we said it. There is a second when you become aware that you are starting to use substitutes. A second when you know that any other word you choose to replace the only one that fits would be a partial view of the compact reflection of you, now a vulnerable creature. And you have to be vulnerable, let your defenses fall, and simply love. Otherwise, it does not work.

I’m going on that plane now to do exactly that. In the course of the next days, I want to hear those words again and I want to say them, in silence, in darkness, while we simply indulge ourselves in the miracle of being.

Trackback URI | Comments RSS