Airport Waiting Room

I saw a lot of people, not knowing their names. What for? They all will only end up as faces I see in my dreams to forget five minutes after I wake up. Get to know their name means have another memory of this place—for that matter, I think, I had enough. I was alone there, sitting on the waiting room, waiting for my flight back home. I was thinking about many things, and how bad I wanted to sleep in my bedroom.

*

Just spend my time watching people, when this woman in white shirt entered my sight.

She was with someone, a man. I think, they’re 40-something years old. They have two big suitcases in their trolley, so I think they will travel together. I was wrong, when I see them hugging. That is surely a farewell hug, you just can tell by the way they look in each other eyes before they put themselves in each other’s arms. That was a mature hug, his hands gently hold her and there weren’t excessive touches. Then, she touched his cheek while say something to him. He’s smiling and rub her shoulder slowly. Before he got inside the departure room, he kissed her cheeks. I can see how they respect each other.

I can feel my eyes burn a little. That was really not a good time to watch people say goodbye that way. Not, after you just did the same thing a few hours ago.

That woman in white shirt kept looking to departure room, waving her hands while with quick gesture wipe her tears away with another hand. I was strong enough hold my tears, but it was before she put her left hand (her right hand was holding a handbag) in her chest, and move her hand as if she draws a circle on it, and she tapped her chest twice as she nods to the man inside the departure room. You can see her say, “go” few times to him (I bet he looked back few times on his way because she had to told him more than once), with smile on her face but still wipe her silent tears in such a swiftness. And then it’s all blur as my eyelashes got wet.

I wish I could see how he responded to those gestures.

Then she moved a little to the left side, to the spot I was standing few hours ago. We did the same thing: stand there, keep looking for some time, use our hand so send someone inside there a message. I wonder about so many things at that time. Does she wish that he could just stay? Does she feel so wistful know that he won’t be around for some time, now? And so on. I was still busy asking another similar crazy questions when she pushed her trolley slowly, and disappear in the crowd. That’s the last time I saw her.

It was important, she’s important, without me knowing her name. She was the first person who showed me how it feels to say goodbye with a hug you wish you never let go. I know the feeling, but to be able to ‘see’ that feeling was another kind of experience.

*

Eventually, it’s time to go back home. I went inside the plane, pray, and fall asleep before the flight attendants even started explain about the emergency doors and the oxygen mask. I used that table on the back of the seat as a pillow, and keep my seat belt fasten.

Right before I lost my consciousness, I realized how tired I am.

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