Prologue.
Girl meets boy by chance, it was nothing special. He asks for the time, she thinks he said something else and embarrasses herself, they get talking. Neither has anything better to do, so they spend the afternoon wandering town, before spending the night sitting in the back of a ute, their faces lit up by the fire at some barbeque, starting rumours galore amongst friends, acquaintances and strangers. There's music and moonlight and everything seems just perfect. They get together just like that, building a friendship and a relationship at the same time. They're really happy. Maybe it was sort of special.
Things change, they change. It's not so special anymore. They break up. It's nothing new, it happens every day. Some argue happiness is a temporary thing. I'm one of those people.
"Jesska?" The man's impatient voice brought me back to reality.
"Just Jess actually. No one really calls me Jesska, except - "
"Yeah, that's great, but I'm not here to hear your life story."
"Sorry."
He went through a heap of questions, as part of his "standard procedure". I couldn't help but notice they surprisingly different from the ones we get asked when we enter the country back home - instead of "do you have any food?" they went more along the lines of "are you carrying any arms or explosives? Have you been to the Middle East in the last six months?"
I went along, yes-ing and no-ing, paying more attention to his thick American accent than the actual questions, which I deemed downright silly. I'm nineteen years old, I have next to no baggage on me, and there will be naught but one moderately sized duffle bag awaiting me at baggage claim - how many firearms and explosives could I possibly be carrying right now? And like I'd tell them if I was. I decided if I ever ran a country, I'd get rid of those sorts of questions - there was bag searches and x-ray machines to do that. I mean, why bother with the questions?
He handed my passport back and waved me through.
Some people find letting go really easy. They go quietly about their days, put on their brave face and tell themselves that everything will be fine, that everything happens for a reason, and or that it just wasn't meant to be; until the day they finally believe it.
I'm not one of those people.
