I watched Love Actually the other day.
The closing airport scene always brings on the tears.
And it reminded me of the last layover I had.
Not too long ago.
It was the sort of layover that begins as being just enough time.
Time to browse the book stands.
To grab a pretzel and a water.
To read the first couple of chapters of a new book.
To wait, in anticipation until you've reached the cleared altitude.
To open it back up and read on.
The sort of layover that begins to grow longer.
Each time you glance up at the Gate 25 desk.
To see each new delay.
To notice the way the gate attendant refuses to meet your eyes.
To notice the grumblings of the couple beside you.
To hear them argue in hushes about ordinary things.
The sort of layover that begins to make you ansy.
So you arise and head towards the exit.
To go as far as you can go before having to reenter security.
To see the people coming off their flights.
To see them finally breathing with ease.
To see that moment when they're reunited in embraces.
"I like to see people reunited, I like to see people run to each other, I like the kissing and the crying, I like the impatience, the stories that the mouth can't tell fast enough, the ears that aren't big enough, the eyes that can't take in all of the change, I like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone."
--Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close