Greetings at the Intersection
"Bye. I hope you have a great time," he kisses her softly. Their eyes link momentarily before she looks away. An awkward tension hovers, stagnant, palatable, and according to some passerby's, almost visible. He's not taking a step to leave, nor is she taking a step towards the security gates. They wait. Or rather, they're stalling the inevitable. If they can elongate the time for her to disappear into the waiting line, into the throngs of people finding their gate numbers, into a foreign city half a globe away, maybe, just maybe, they can outsmart the inevitable. But the inevitable is inevitable.
"Well, bye. I'll see you soon," she smiles, her lips arching upwards only the slightest. She'll be back, she knows she will. Saying goodbye to the person in front of her is not hard. He will continue his education here while she will be continuing hers over there, for four months. Four months sound absurdly short to be making a big deal out of it, and she realizes one day she will laugh at her overreaction. Right now, at this moment, amidst the bustling airport, she cannot. She cannot find it in her to smile more enthusiastically, to smile a smile that shouts in elation of her excitement.
He returns the smile, awkwardly. The tension has yet to dissipate; their remaining time is, however, slowly dissipating. Time is suppose to be their weapon against inevitability, yet, time is also their worst enemy. When they started, they knew of Inevitability and through mutual agreement, they embarked on a short retreat from reality. Short because it was only a summer. Short because it was like the short films Pixar shows before the actual movie. Ones that are insightful and satisfying until the satisfaction starts to wane and the desire for a full length movie bubbles away in the mind. Their short film has ended. It was insightful and satisfying. With satisfaction comes with melancholy that it has ended. Their story is never meant for a full length movie. Happily-ever-after is cut to simply "happily." Perhaps, bittersweetly happily is more appropriate.
They are two straight lines going in opposite directions. Fate has a dark sense of humor, she thinks as he gives one final nod. Destiny's a joke, she grimaces as he turns. And Inevitability, that bitch can suck my dick. Though her words are hateful, her feelings are far from anger. Her smile grows wider at his boyish silhouette stalking through the crowd and dodging suitcases and small children. She watches until she no longer sees him. Her smile slips. They are two straight lines going in opposite directions. Different destinations. It was Fate's idea for them to cross paths. A dot at the intersection. An illusion of reality when they both knew straights lines extends infinitely in a straight path. They decided to say Hello when they met, and now they must withstand the pain of saying goodbye.
Hello. Goodbye. Thank you for the memories.