Going, Going

I remove them from my bag; one at a time; running them through my hand and over and noting the detail before venturing their contents. The glue is thick and sticky and holding on the folds of the envelopes that I know propose your letters. My excitement's evident in the irregular tears, almost violent at the seams. In between eyeing the lines, as I try and face your words, the plane windows entice my gaze as we taxi along the runway to take-off. There's a definitive break in the purple, indigo cloud coverage touching the horizon. And where it meets; an orange line, licking thick with the sun's setting.

It's arrived and now in decline; the day it's taken me to leave, which has been a long day, and seemed a lot has happened. But a lot has not actually happened, though the small amount that has has held a lot of meaning; great meaning. Included are: the conclusive Mocha's coffee session, with appropriately a foccacia; the many cigarettes; the Final Cigarette; the longing looks; the sad eyes; the heavy sighs; the tears inevitably cried; the hugs held; the silences felt; and my head turned back for one last glimpse and piercing of eyes of understanding. All of the moments where I understood, though with lack of words to describe, what actions demanded.

About to rise into the air and flee to another adventure, I sat cramped and crumpled and untidy on the aeroplane, waiting to be taken from you. You were two. When we were seated, either side of me and pouring both so suddenly and steadily into and within me. Silently I was willing time slow down. I'm not ready for this, I thought, but resolved, whenever are you ready. Never; you just go. I just went. I'm just going. But, I'm going to miss you. The promise of I miss you will keep me steady towards a return to you. And as I lifted off the ground and into the air having read both of your letters I knew that nothing could take that away or recreate it and it can never be mistaken that you are anything less than most important to me.

As I finished reading your letters, the rain which was starting up all day, became stronger and heavier as the plane climbed through the clouds. The droplets would strike the glass and speed so quickly in a trickle past the window. The rain and weather and skies, that had seemed to open up today, carried with me from place to place, and stop to stop all the way to touchdown at my destination. And though it a fortuitous coincidence, I paused with every shower thinking of the suitability of the imagery and moment, knowing that you were thinking the same.