I’d like to think that five months from now, I’d be at the arrival area, pushing my trolley with a mountain of bags, and I will see you run towards me. We will be hugging each other for the first time in more than a year. I would feel your head on my shoulders, and your arms around my body. I would bury my face in your strawberry-scented hair once more. I’d feel your warmth engulfing me. I’d wipe your tears from your face, though I wouldn’t be able to control mine. We’d go somewhere private, an empty park maybe, and then I am going to kiss you. I’ll kiss you just like our first kiss in what seemed to be a thousand years ago. I will feel complete again. And we would not talk. We would just be in each other’s arms, because no words could ever come close to describing that perfect moment.
I want this to happen. I can barely sleep each night thinking about it. Every fibre of my being yearns for your presence. Every night, I wish this cold pillow was your warm embrace. Everyday, I wish I was with you, or you were with me. I wish I could teleport to your room, even only for a few minutes. I love you.