For me, the most terrifying yet happiest place is an airport. Don’t you think so? Airports have this mix of deep melancholia, nervous anticipation and unparalleled joy. A mix you rarely find anywhere else.
Although I feel like I have nomadic blood, I’m still a nervous flyer, but airports; they fill me like a churning pot of emotions.
When I depart I’m filled with guilt of leaving those I love behind, with the fear of the possibility of never seeing them again, with so much love that I sometimes want to turn around and go back to them, with sadness that you might never see the places that you have fallen in love with, with a melancholy that you realize that from now its only memories that with keep you looking forward. I have this frantic anxiety to call everyone and tell them I love them and that I’ll miss them so that if the worst does come, my last words were sweet. I’m such a romantic; unfortunately.
But as soon as I land and am safe, I am in awe. I am the silent observer of a romantic ruckus where anxious family members or friends catch sight of their loved ones coming through the doors. For a split second they breathe a sigh of relief, whisper a grateful prayer and make a mad dash to hug, kiss and smother the person with words until they tire. Until it’s my turn. I send messages saying I reached safely and while the excitement builds in me slowly, I just absorb my new surroundings. Then it hits me with full force. I want to know what the doors open up to, what places will carve memories in my mind and who I will carry on.
There is nothing like coming home, but there is nothing like flying free either. There is a certain charm in coming back home to the familiar, but there is that unmatched love that comes with walking into the unknown.
Airports. A place that’s almost like second nature. A place where you see heart-wrenching goodbyes and heart-warming welcomes.