You know that feeling when you’re at the arrivals hall and the person you’re waiting for finally arrives. How the heart skips a beat and your pupils dilate in reflection of your excitement. Well ya I get that with you. Like a plane taking flight, unobstructed view of the unbeknownst seclusion.
Someone once said that fear is the heart of love, and my father told tales of battles with raging seas to build a home out of relentless forage. How my name exists because my mother spent years combing the entrance of every arrivals hall in search of that moment when her patience lands on the grounds of hopeful runway.
And I hold on to that moment for our time to depart.