On departures

In less than two months I've been to the international airport three times, for three different reasons. One arrival and two departures.

The arrival was shrouded by mists of expectation of the unknown, of surprise, of the weirdness of the first-time encounter. The first departure, a vacuum. A gap in which time stopped when I wanted it to go faster, once dreams and plans had been undone. In both situations I did not have the opportunity to observe people.

Last night, once again, I was there for a departure. This time someone very close to me went away. And at that very moment I realized how things change in very short time frames, how life yaws, and we usually don't realize it until that very thousandth of a second when we open our eyes and the new world is right there standing in front of us.

Once I went with this flow. In one month, I made a decision, set things up, packed, and went away. Just like that. It took me well a week to perceive the new world I was in. And when I did, I was scared. Fear came and left in a matter of hours, and then I started living that new life.

But I went to a world which was 3 hours away, where people speak my language, and are not strangers to me (even though they can be strange). What if you go to a world where you cannot come back except by plane? A new world full of promises, but whose inhabitants speak another language, wear different clothes, have different habits? A world which you don't know what exactly to expect of, a world of dreams. What then?

This could be read in her face, during those two hours of waiting, including the check-in line, the luggage protection line, the exchange line. Tension, anxiety, expectation, in an almost cruel blend, and even those who are outside of the situation feel their hearts tearing apart. Family stays behind. Small things gathered in a lifetime, even for a young person, stay behind. With you, nothing but what fits in a bag and in your heart.

Those who stay make a group: the group of those on this side of the line, those who can only watch the line and wait for that special person to pass by for the last time before they board. Most of the this-side ones cry. Not always because of sadness. Several times because missing that person comes even before they go away. Right there the lightbulb comes on: at that very moment there's no going back.

***

It was there that I, in the group of those on this side, realized that I am gonna miss you, even though we have never been so close as we might have liked. Even though our differences have made our lives go different ways. And I didn't have time, and the words didn't come for me to say this while I hugged you and said goodbye. So I say it here:

I hope this new world is extremely friendly with you and welcomes you with arms wide open. I hope you find your dreams, all your dreams, there. That each of the moments you live there are worthy of staying forever in your mind and heart. That you find your way, whatever way that is. That you make many friends, and that you have at least one you can count on. That you have a lot of fun and learn plenty of new things. And when you feel homesick, be strong -- let this feeling stay, but for no longer than ten minutes.

Be happy, truly happy! I am very proud of you. And I will be here always. I love you.