Thursday, February 09, 2006

You Think You Know...But You Have No Idea

I hate O'Hare...why couldn't he have flown in to Midway? I could have parked and been inside already, waiting for the second he walked around the corner from the terminal to greet him properly. I miss the old days, before the fall of 2001, when you could still walk through the terminal and meet someone at the gate. So many smiles and hugs and kisses all around you. It made you feel good just by being there.

But now I'm driving around the airport in circles, a metaphor for what's going on in my head, waiting for him to walk out on to the curb. Will he still want me? Will I still want him? Will all of the buildup prove worth it? And then I saw him...

There's no way I could have missed him. Tall and handsome, no doubt about it. I pulled over, popped the trunk and got out. Deep breath, here goes nothing...and then I saw his eyes and his smile, bright and warm, and in that moment, I knew everything was going to be okay. I reached to hug him, and I felt as if I'd melted in to his chest. It couldn't have lasted more than I few seconds, but it felt like forever...like home. The security guard yelled towards us. "No stopping, folks. You have to move the car." If the real world hadn't creeped back in, who knows how long we would have stood there?

The next few hours were kind of a blur. We were at the bar, talking like two people who spent all their days and nights together, but I can't for the life of me tell you what was actually said. My mind kept jumping ahead to later. Those thoughts are still clear in my mind. I wanted to take him out of there, to have him all to myself...to rest my head on his body while he told me the things he'd wanted to say that the distance between us wouldn't allow...to kiss him and tell him everything I'd been holding inside of me.

When we walked out the door, he stopped. He wrapped one arm around my waist, and placed his hand on my cheek, pulling my face to his. An inch away, then a hair's breath, then nothing but his soft, sweet lips on mine. No security guard yelling at us this time, though. It was me, pulling him to the car...

...to take him home.

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