What goodbyes are made of (Part 1)

            Airports.
            Arrivals, transits and departures.
            Isn’t that what life is all about?
            Pause. Rewind. Go back to 2 years ago. I could see myself standing in front of the airport security check, dragging a luggage and a heavy heart. The first time I was going to be away from home for a long time. Starting a new life isn’t easy but leaving your old life is harder. People say it’s a new chapter in life. Yet, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to turn the page on the chapter I was at because my hands were trembling. Whether out of excitement or nervousness, I was not sure. It was a mixture of both I guess.
            Months of preparation and packing. Documents to be signed, things to be bought, goodbyes to be said. Time passed in a whirlwind of activity and out of my control. In the end, it all came down to this point. The final goodbye. And it hit me like a freight train coming out of nowhere.
            Once I passed the security check, there’d be a glass screen between me and my loved ones. From there, it’s straight to the check-in counter and the departure lounge. No coming back. I stopped and looked back into the faces of the people who mean the most to me. My Dad. I wondered how I had failed to notice the increasing number of grey hairs on his head until that moment. My Mum. Whose brown eyes are always filled with love and warmth. My sister. Looking at me proudly with a small smile. My three best friends. Who’re always there for me through thick and thin.
            The thing about me is that I don’t like showing my vulnerable side. I like to act stronger and tougher than I am. At that time, there was this sad and empty feeling inside me that just kept getting bigger and bigger. So, I flashed a big, bright smile and hugged them. Then, because I knew that if I stayed longer, I might end up crying, I waved goodbye and walked through that point of no return.
            Later, as I was going up the escalator towards the departure lounge, I saw them waving at me. I kept looking back. The escalator took me further and further away from them until I couldn’t see their faces clearly. Once I was upstairs, I looked back down again, trying to find my parents in the crowd below. Then, I made out my Dad's tall, thin frame and he just kept waving at me. I made a happy wave, smiling as if everything was just peachy. As if I was not thinking about dropping all the bags and running back to him. Then, Mum was waving too and I thought about how I was not gonna see her for a long time. I had to blink quickly and swallow hard to push that awful feeling back down. And I got angry at myself because damn those tears that were threatening to fall. I kept telling myself, “Don’t you dare let them see you cry.”
            Then, I waved one final goodbye and left.
            It scared the shit out of me, the thought of surviving alone in a different world.
            But I didn’t cry.

            Sometimes, goodbyes are made of tears that didn’t fall.

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