공 항 2
I had no idea what to look for, where to look, or at what point I would find myself toe to toe with Alex. At luggage claim, a boisterously American Marine helped me with my luggage, and pointed me in the next direction. In my immediate memory, the trip up until this moment faded.
I pushed my big, awkward cart with my big, awkward self out of luggage claim and into an area roped off to keep crowds of waiting loved ones from pushing into the exit door. People were shouting names and waving frantically. I tried, at this point, to wipe the intense look off of my face (you know, non-smiling with a furrowed brow), and look as attractive as I could after a 14-hour flight . . .
I didn’t even recognize him. He had lost so much weight, his blue jeans gathered at the top by a belt that no longer fit. His hair longer, his face shaved, his smile . . . the same (*sigh*). He yelled my name once, it had been barely audible in the noise around me, but we’ve always had an easy time spotting each other. I look for the guy that falls, and he looks for the girl who laughs.
He didn’t actually fall, that would’ve been too perfect, but we did manage to look horribly awkward pushing the cart together stopping occasionally to embrace. We laughed a bit, but were mostly silent. It was like being married to a stranger . . . a tall, sunburned & handsome stranger.
As he stood line for bus tickets, we stole glances at each other. Glances that were more like questions, questions that would eventually not be asked, because they didn’t need to be asked. Sometimes it just takes a moment to remember.
I pushed my big, awkward cart with my big, awkward self out of luggage claim and into an area roped off to keep crowds of waiting loved ones from pushing into the exit door. People were shouting names and waving frantically. I tried, at this point, to wipe the intense look off of my face (you know, non-smiling with a furrowed brow), and look as attractive as I could after a 14-hour flight . . .
I didn’t even recognize him. He had lost so much weight, his blue jeans gathered at the top by a belt that no longer fit. His hair longer, his face shaved, his smile . . . the same (*sigh*). He yelled my name once, it had been barely audible in the noise around me, but we’ve always had an easy time spotting each other. I look for the guy that falls, and he looks for the girl who laughs.
He didn’t actually fall, that would’ve been too perfect, but we did manage to look horribly awkward pushing the cart together stopping occasionally to embrace. We laughed a bit, but were mostly silent. It was like being married to a stranger . . . a tall, sunburned & handsome stranger.
As he stood line for bus tickets, we stole glances at each other. Glances that were more like questions, questions that would eventually not be asked, because they didn’t need to be asked. Sometimes it just takes a moment to remember.
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