What if second chances come a second time?
Long ago, Hannah and Jonah called it quits. Long ago, Hannah stopped trying to make things work, and Jonah let her go. Long ago, Jonah mailed back all of Hannah's stuff from his apartment, and Hannah blocke...
It feels like déjà vu, seeing Jonah off at the airport before he boards his plane to New York.
It dawns on me, that the last time we actually saw each other before this surreal week happened, we were also at an airport: the two of us standing in front of each other, my heart too heavy in my chest as we said our see-you-next-times.
Will I see him again? Will we remain friends? Will I manage to screw it all up like I did the last time? All these thoughts, I'm so exhausted. How do I stop myself from overthinking things?
"All good?" I ask, eyeing him as he pats his modest carry-on, his backpack slung over one shoulder.
"All good," he echoes.
I wonder if he feels it too. I wonder if he feels it all the goddamn time.
The voice over the intercom calls for his flight, and he straightens up, hesitates, and then puts his free arm around me. I count to fifteen before he finally lets go. It's not enough, but I don't want to seem clingy, so I let go as well.
The way he looks at me overwhelms me. He's standing so close in front of me, that I can feel his breaths teasing the loose strands of my hair in front of my face. I want to hold him close, tell him that I still want him, tell him that I don't want him to go. But I can't.
The last time we stood in front of each other like this, in the middle of a busy airport, I had no idea that I would be losing him just months later. And at this moment, I'm still just as clueless about what the future holds for us.
It took me a long time to recover from losing him the first time around. I don't think I can survive a second time.
"Jonah?" I start, quietly, my heart in my throat. "I..."
He looks down at me softly, expectantly, and I can't find the right words to say.
"I..." want you back. Want you to stay. Don't want you watch you go again. I swallow back my words, and settle with, "... Keep in touch?"
I only notice it now, how there's a troubled crease in-between his eyebrows, how there's an undecipherable look in his eyes that only grows stronger as the second call for his flight booms from the intercom. I want to smooth down the lines on his forehead with my thumb, hold him in my arms, kiss that frown away. My hand twitches. A corner of his mouth lifts and he nods once.
He turns, and my chest grows heavier. Just like the last time.... He looks over his shoulder at me. "See you."
I watch him slip through the glass door, make a turn at the corner, and disappears.
I stand there, in that spot, until my legs start to burn. I don't move as I watch the words on the screen change, as his plane finally departs. Here I am, once again, standing alone, letting the half of my heart leave, taking off to the skies and leaving a hole in my heart. Not knowing if he will ever come back to me again.
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