Over the past few days I've had four friends leave me for a different state after living together for a couple of months. Three of those friends left on the plane. The last two were much closer to me than the others. But the final one that left was probably the hardest to watch leave.
I like airplanes, but at the same time I abhor them! One reason why I love them is because I met one of my best friends at an airport. He was there to pick me up in North Carolina when I was flying there to attend an orientation for a job. When it came time to leave, he was there to send me off. That same friend flew out to California to come work with me and I was able to meet him at the airport to give him a welcome that he gave me. A few months later I gave him a goodbye that was heartfelt and began to think he took a piece of my heart with him after he left. He was a good friend, an airplane brought me to him, and him to me; at the same time an airplane took each other away from one another. I can say I am truly looking forward to the day when the airplane allows us to see each other soon.
One reason why I abhor them, is because it was the last time I saw another one of my good friends. I remember at that time, pre-9/11 meaning no restrictions on how far you could go into the airport, seeing him walk into the tunnel on his flight that would take him to San Diego so he could go to his University. I remember hugging him and telling him I loved him for the last time. Though I cannot say for sure, the memory I have of him has him in a light blue shirt and jeans with a black satchel hanging on him. Because of this, I do not like airports; they took away someone that meant so much to me, and I never got to see him again.
With the last person I took to the airport, I am slightly concerned. Alright, more than slightly; I am truly concerned that I may never see this person again. I crave seeing this person already, even though I just left them yesterday. Inside my mind, when I saw them walk through the security gate and wave goodbye for the last time, I saw my younger self saying goodbye to my friend that never returned. I hoped and prayed that I would see this friend again, because I knew, like the one I dropped off the day before, they deserved to be apart of my life more than just a couple months. That I have a future with them, that I want a future with them, that I do not how I can go on without knowing I am going to see them again. If only I could live at an airport, and see them fly in to be with me again.
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