I always love airport.

Airport is without doubt one of my favorite places in the world. It feels like home. You know what they say, when you tend to wander in daily basis, the journey itself is your home. And for me airport is not about destination; it's about the journey. When I travel alone, I love to hang in the airport's bookstore, or simply sipping a tea while watching people passing by. I never feel bored, I do love to observe things and let my imagination fly anywhere. I love the smell of airport, the hectic moments, the quiet moments, everything. Being a melancholic, sometimes I build this image in my head about the "ideal" places to meet my future partner. And I always debate whether it will be bookstore or airport. The later wins. I think nothing is more romantic than to meet somebody special in a place where all the meetings and goodbyes happens.
Every component in the airports has its meaning and purposes. There's a reason why people need to gather in the airport to fly overseas. There's a reason airport has a road that leads to a highway. And there must be a reason why the universe led him to my door. 

I met him in an airport.
It was random and awkward. No words said but he surely left an impression. I didn't know how to describe it rather than "weird". He just simply grabbed my suitcase and went to the parking lot.

I also remember the moment I called him for the first time. It was in an airport as well, weeks after we first met. I was really pissed of about something and I just wanted to be grumpy about it, and he came straight down to the airport from his office to comfort me. I was really happy that he came. 

He was like a tornado. His energy was out of the world. The way he talked was always on point. Sometimes I didn't get why he was really convincing in every things he said. Funny, I actually noticed many disagreements between us in some aspects since our first meeting, but we also have many similar favorites and that's the reason why I didn't stop meeting him. I found myself laughing hard every time I was around him. Like I said, his energy was something. When I thought we were rushing, he kept telling and showing me that my doubts were without reasons. When I feel like something was not fine, his smile, laugh and voice soothes me. For me, he was like a ray of light. A glimpse of hope.

I don't know, maybe it was love. Or not. Maybe it was lust. And maybe what hurt the most was the high expectation.

Everything happened so fast. So fast, I barely even breathe. When the reality came right in front of my eyes, I just buried myself in activities. The last thing I wanted was to look weak. Days, weeks..  I tried to compensate by let things go like nothing happened, but turned out I wasn't healed that way. I was still angry. The disappointment haunts me whenever I ran out of thing to do. I randomly lost some sleeps. It was exhausting. Then I came to a conclusion: this is not working. I was still hurt.

I can't get back the hours, the efforts, or that little piece of me that believed in him, but I can learn something from it. I just need time, and I have to start with not lying to myself. And being honest to my own feeling helped me the most.

Honestly, sometimes I still thought; "if only there's an apology, maybe it wouldn't hurt that much." Lol
I also did miserable things in the past but I never ran away from it. Then I realized that waiting for an apology is a waste of time. Not everyone has the same scale of empathy. Some people are just simply lacking of feeling. I always think that we have to feel pity for this kind of people and pray for them. But well, that's human... What can you expect?

At least I tried. I believe being genuine is never make you a fool. Najwa Zebian, a famous author, once said: "So many out there are in denial. They inflict pain on others and don't feel it. They commit selfish acts and call it self-love. If your heart hurts, be thankful.."
True, girl.

This particular journey told us to put our expectations down and rest in God only. I'll always remember this pain. Don't forget your pain. But try to love yourselves more than ever, despite any mistakes that we made.
Because we are still here... alive, breathing, waiting for our next "flights"...

Like I said in the beginning, it's just another scene of me, heading to the airport to wander somewhere. The airport is always full of people crossing each other's paths. Everyone is walking towards their own destinations. Some people are taking their direct flights and some are changing due to the long hours. I often sit alone, surrounded by people. They pass by me, often without a glance. The planes come and go, and so do the people.. 'Hellos', 'goodbyes', tears.. smiles, regrets.. Every person there has a story to tell. And mine is about him.

I missed that flight for a reason.

He's not my destination; he's only a transit. He's only a short; little part of my journey. The journey toward my true home.