MICHAEL
He was happy. He was supportive. He was proud. However, Michael was feeling incredibly sympathetic.
Never before had he properly appreciated the pain behind a goodbye hug at the airport. He had always been the one doing the leaving and while it was hard to walk away from home for months at a time, it felt a lot worse when you were the one being left behind as opposed to the one getting on the plane.
There wasn’t a selfish bone in Michael’s body that wanted to ask you to stay, to continue to be his supporter and visit him on tour, but he was still struggling to release his arms around your neck or take his chin off of the top of your head, even if your messy bun was making it hard for him to breathe. He didn’t care about the sound of clicking cameras and phones recording your departure, he could close his eyes and let the rest of the world fade away.
“You going to text me when you’ve landed?” He lifted up his head and smiled down at you, eyes wide with excitement for you. The last three years had been a constant adventure for him and you had soaked it all in through visits, phone calls, and video chats, but now you were going to have your own grand experience to write to him about and send him pictures of. Never in his life had he been so interested in Haiti, but now that you were off to spend a year building wells and helping run a girl’s shelter, he had been reading up on the Caribbean country. Of course, he was nervous for you, but he couldn’t believe he had a girlfriend who was cool enough to take something like this on. He was too chicken shit to go and live somewhere so different than where he was from. People thought Michael was brave to tour the world, but without a guitar in his hand, he was a knight without a shield, a soldier without any means of defense.
“Yeah. I promise.” You were sure that you had promised him about a dozen times since he picked you up for the airport that morning, but what was a thirteenth time? “We’re going to talk all the time, just like we do now.” You slid your hands from his back to his sides, comforting him by holding him place right in front of you.
“Are you and I ever going to be in the same place?” He looked down at the space between both of your sneakers and checked. His music was important to him as was your life, but he wondered sometimes if you two would ever sync up. Somehow, the connection you shared never wavered or died while you put oceans and miles between you both, but he always worried. You had to admit that it would be nice to wake up next to Michael every single day, but you had the rest of your life for that.
“One day.” Nodding, you confidently assured him, the bun on your head sliding back and forth like an unsteady marble on a table top. “And we’ll have interesting stories about all the things we did when we are finally living together, old and wrinkly by the beach.” You laughed and lit him up as well.
“I’m not going to be wrinkly, speak for yourself.” He unwrapped his arms from you and stroked one hand across your chin playfully before he picked up your hands off of his sides and held them between you both. “Promise me one more thing?”
“Oh my God, Michael, I’m not going to meet cute Haitian and stay there for good.”
“No.” He just laughed loudly at the thought. It hadn’t even occurred to him. Michael didn’t feel very confident about much, but he knew that you were as loyal as they came. “Promise me you’re going to have the best time, okay? Have fun, take pictures, make friends…” He watched your eyes with determination, making sure you were hearing everything he said. “Have the best six months of your life.” He didn’t want to let you go. Michael wouldn’t have complained for a second if you decided to stay. He wouldn’t try to talk you out of it, but he knew that you had to begin your own explorations. You were too amazing to keep to himself, so he was going to let you take on the world as long as he could watch you reign from the sidelines.
