Landing in the Sea (1/18/11)

I frantically disembarked a plane and made my way to you, to be in your arms. I found myself running through the airport, my heart beating nearly out of my chest. I couldn’t get to you fast enough.  Sixty-something days since I had seen you.  Countless hours had been spent dreaming of you, of our life that was to begin in this very moment.  I told myself; when I was here last, that if you met or superseded my expectations, I would loyally return to you.  So here I am, making a bee line toward baggage claim, hoping not to cause a scene large enough to be noticed by security, as that would surely send me into an outburst worthy of padded walls, or at the very least, questioning.  I was pursuing a long time dream of following my heart back to you, and had allowed him to become as big a part of it as any.  In the same way, he was there, standing at baggage claim so coy, smirking even, and allowing me to be a part of his life and dreams. I saw him before he saw me. I was at the top of the escalator peering down on what I was about to enter into.  He looked so handsome, arms crossed, standing so tall and unwavering, leaping head first into a new chapter of unlived days.  Instantly, that look, the calmness about him, and the overwhelming sense of joy I was experiencing, was forever engraved in my mind.  I took just a moment to breathe, to take it all in, and then proceeded. I was trying to not look like a complete lunatic, and I was failing. I took mental notes from a peripheral glance.  There were soldiers returning home from war, mothers and fathers reuniting with their children, and families; clearly ending a tropical vacation.  To my left, baggage claim, suitcases of all sizes and colors steadily spinning on the carousel, almost all adorned with a ribbon or bright tag for easy identification.  I could feel a chill in the air as it rushed in every time the automatic doors opened to let someone out to you.  The air was crisp and clean, which I found especially refreshing after drawing in recycled plane air for several hours.   Sensory overload became an understatement at this point. I was moving clumsily now, laughing while unsuccessfully holding back tears of joy and, when I reached him, I nearly knocked him over.    He held me in a way that welcomed me and warmed my heart. I looked over his shoulder and saw you.  I was right where I wanted to be.  I stood still in my new “big sea” and hugged a new “little fish”. In this moment, staring at you, in his arms, I could think of nothing better.