The Good Bye

I sat cross-legged on your bed as you packed your bags. Showing tell-tell signs of your military background, everything was rolled neatly and put in place. I can remember the sun shining through your venetian blinds, dancing gracefully across your face as you tried not to look at me. Soft, graceful, passive are not words that one would use to describe you, but in that moment, you appeared so serene. Angel, you called me. Nothing will change. Distance will not over power our love. You needed me to be strong and patient because we would be together again. As you spoke, I drifted into a daydream of our first meeting. You were 24. I was 18. You traveled the world and spoke different languages. You protected our president and commanded respect by your sheer presence. I was in awe of you. We had a lot of first together. You were my first love, my first lover. You taught me things about myself that I would have never discovered. Angel, you called me. Promise me you'll wait for me. I promised.

The drive to the airport was nothing as I imagined. I thought we would discuss our undying love for each other amidst free flowing tears. Instead, we held hands in silence. I parked, you jumped out. You didn't want me to walk you to the gate. The pain in your eyes was a kindred spirit to the pain in my heart, so I agreed. You held me in your arms and kissed me gently. Angel, remember, you promised. You turned to leave. Kept glancing back to see if I was there. I was. I watched you until I couldn't see you anymore through my tears. I don't know how long I stood there, willing you to come back to me.

I think we both knew this would be our last goodbye.