I hate airports

There is something about the airports. I don't know why. I hate the energy there. Though I see people smiling and meeting up with their loved ones, there is something sad about that place. I have gone to pick up and I have gone to drop people. I have said goodbye and I have said hello. But the goodbye always outweigh the hello. I have this weird fear that I might never see them again. It is stupid and irrational but it is true.

Well, my most recent visit to the airport was to see off a friend. There is this feeling of dread. You hope the flight is late. You hope that something goes wrong. Yet there is something that tells you that it isn't going to be the last time. You know you will have to go through this over and over again, till one day, when it will over and that day, hopefully, shall be the day of joy.

Till that day, I shall be strong. Strong until I hear, "All my bags are packed and I am ready to go." Then, I run to get the tissues.