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I was in the airport a while ago, come to bid farewell to my beloved relatives who had been visiting for a long while. It was a bitter farewell; I was tired and drained to a fierce extent from other circumstances in my life, and having to pinch a fold of my heart off and send it away onto a plane was harsh.
Yet that was what reality needed from me, so I gave it, my prescence there a tired statement of support and existence.
As I had entered the airport I had seen an Asian woman waving farwell to a man, seemingly her boyfriend. The interaction was quite innocent and calm; no pained tears or hugs or whimpers of pain. Yet the underlying pain of seperation came to me whispering a tale of heartbreak and of the beauty of what once was, of love.
Inside the airport I seperated from the procession of relatives and obtained a cup of coffee from Dunkin Donuts. The line was not harsh on my patience, and I spent my time playing expressions across my face from boredom to flirting. When it was my turn, I spoke to the men in a Russian accent -- not sure why, but I felt like it -- and they looked at me with eyes that were open very wide indeed...
The coffee was the price for energy; once taken, I prefered not to sit still. I have to go the bathroom, I announced. Same here, my nephew, a 9 year old boy, said.
Once outside the bathrooms, I stared down the passageways which seemed to extend like tunnels into a never-endign nothingness. No one was there, no life, nothing but walls and cramped posters. I feel like running. He laughed; you can't run in the airport.
I ran, though, and he joined me, and as we ran, the taste of addrenline filled the world and it all seemed to be a smaller place than it is.
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