I’m standing at the far end of the platform.
Like everyone else here, I keep stretching my neck, straining to see if the train is approaching.
Many travelers around me are running out of patience. The train is late, as usual, but my eagerness to see you only grows stronger.
There’s a twitch in my knee, a strange current that runs through my body as I see the train finally arriving. It should stop already! It moves toward me, slowly and endlessly, until at last, it halts. I’ve waited long enough to see you. My anticipation is through the roof.
Nobody tells you how long waiting can feel. That it might take years, not months, for your favorite person to join you. That you will endure the cold, blatant loneliness of being in another place, another world. That you’ll spend countless nights alone, crying at the absurdity of how bureaucracy, language, and paperwork can stand between love and family.
But now, you are here.
I see someone helping you lift your luggage out of the train. You pause to assemble your bags, glancing left and right, searching. I’m shoving through the crowds, trying to reach you.
I want to scream at the top of my voice:
“Honey, I’m here! You don’t have to look anymore because I’m right here!”
But I’m already crying. Tears blur my vision as I push forward. I told myself I wouldn’t cry, but it feels too good to see you again.
And then, I’m there.
You see me. I see the shrill joy in your expression and the tears in your eyes before you pull me into the tightest embrace I’ve ever known. We hold on to each other, unbothered by the stampede around us, swaying gently, as if the world has melted away.
This moment belongs to us.
You are here.
We are here.
**I found this piece in my notes. Wrote it a little over a year ago. I hope you enjoyed reading it 🙂
