I actually knew the day it was over. I just fought it until the bitter end, though you’d given up long before I had understood. I stepped off the plane hoping for you to be there. But you were not. And that was it; with that action you’d closed our book.
Remembering that your favorite movie featured the arrivals gate of an airport, perhaps the happiest place on earth, I had this silent hope that you would be there waiting for me. I know. It was probably too much to ask; but I’d passed through so many times before, often alone, and this time I wanted to see your face there to greet me. To take me home.
There was a sadness as I came through customs and exited the gate–but it was more a slap of reality. I rode the train home in silence wondering what the next step would be.
I no longer think of you with pangs of hurt. It was a difficult time, and I remember thinking, “I will one day look back and wonder how the hell I made it through.” And I do. I wonder how I made it through. But I did. And I have you to thank for the strength that I gained.