She put her feet up the bench in front of her and took a sip from her coffee.
She was a bit early today and this was that part where she had the luxury of time to think of things.
That was how airports made her feel — restless yet bound for somewhere, nonetheless.
She thought of that one time she was staying for good and her heart was racing,
Or that other time she went looking for his face, although she knew she’d never lay eyes on them again.
Now it was different, she wanted to go and never come back, mainly because staying made her sad.
And she did not look for anything anymore too, neither did she want to try harder;
It was futile anyway.
She thought of so many things she kept all to herself, of the many things she had held sacred, of the many things she chose to hold dearly.
Maybe that was why people misunderstood her often – she just did not want to talk about her life in general,
Nor did she want to put her heart out there just for everyone to dissect.
It was tedious and she felt that living it was a better way to talk about it.
She heard her name being called on the overhead speaker. It was the last boarding call, she realized.
She ran to fall in line, not minding all the people looking.
She just did not want to miss this.
She had waited long enough to go, too long, actually.
And she did not want to be sad anymore.