I guess you see me as an airport.
And at the end of the day, I will not wish to be an airport for someone I cherish that much. Although airport is a fancy place everyone wish to be there, a symbol of change; transition or stopovers. Airport is a place you don’t have to knock to be inside, one click away and a boarding pass is enough to explore The Duty Free and flee away. Airport is anchored but waving goodbye at every second; greeting hello at every second, too.
A living paradox.
Airport is always there 247, and here I am, red-eye without any pillow or jacket, or any preparation. Just a toothbrush with a lazy single-looped song, expected to deliver lullaby. Thinking airport must be that fun and longest transit time wasn’t a problem when you’re in the fanciest airport on earth, but that’s the moment when your mind flooded urging to be heard.
And I think that you see me as an airport.
The safest place to board or to land; free to run away or run into. I wonder what about people who work in the airport, do they feel special? Countless faces who won’t remember them anyway—asking endless same questions and directions. People are thankful because you offer solutions, you’re special for them in that very tiny timespan. Right after they understood about their destination, then your job is simply done. But, don’t you crave for people who really care for you, who really look for you, after a long run of pointing directions to faceless humans all around the globe? And oh, what I mean by really care for you is, they are asking direction of life, and you know you are a part of their destination, a long road you can go through together.
And I always think that you see me as an airport.
Staying in the airport to catch the earliest flight sucks. Waiting in the boarding room after insufficient sleep felt doomed. But still, nobody will un-love airport, but you just don’t wish to stay there, there’s flight to catch when the time is match.
Oh how I wish you think that airport is your home, as I wave you goodbye you settle up your wings.
Damn it, how I wish you think that airport is your home, as we share another hello when it’s another touchdown.
Yet I still wish you think that airport is your home, so I can wholeheartedly greet you, welcome home, dearest.
A piece I wrote when having the longest transit in Changi Airport. 9 hours in between BKK and CGK. Definitely lesson learned, I’m grateful I can buy some time to really be with myself and reflect. Such a meaningful one.