I waited impatiently at the terminal. His flight had been delayed and I was getting irritated. He had been in California for work for the past four months and I missed him so much. I just wanted him home already. I paced back and forth through the airport. Trying to busy myself until the plane landed, I walked over to the Starbucks and ordered a large smoothie. I focused on the cold instead of watching the clock.
At 9:36 P.M., two hours and forty-five minutes late, they announced the arrival of his flight. I got up from the seat I was in, threw my smoothie cup away (I took maybe three sips and then watched it melt the rest of the time) and took off towards the gate I was supposed to meet him at.
I stood up on my tiptoes to see over the crowd, trying to find him in the sea of others meeting family, going on business trips, or simply just getting away from old lives. Why do you have to be so short?!, I internally yelled. Seconds later, I saw him walk through the gate behind an old couple that must have just gotten back from a Hawaiian vacation. I took off running towards him. He noticed me just seconds before I tackled him in a hug, having just enough time to drop his bag, but his stance never faltered. He immediately embraced me and spun me around as I started crying.
“I’m so happy you’re home!” I whispered into his chest.
“Me too, love. I missed you so much.” He replied, giving me one last squeeze before placing me on the ground.
He looked at me and a smile spread across his face. He grabbed both sides of my face, using both thumbs to wipe away my tears, and kissed me. He was finally home.