goodbyes.

As a child, I loved airports. There was something about them — the energy, the planes in motion, the crowds of people — that inspired my young mind. Airports were synonymous with hellos. But, that was then and this is now. Now I sit on a plane alone. It’s dark out and the hum of the engine reminds me that I’m moving farther and farther away from everything I want to stay with. There’s only so much comfort that you can find in acoustic music and books, so I sleep fitfully for most of the flight but always in my head I find the same refrain — I hate goodbyes, I hate goodbyes, I hate goodbyes. And I touch down in Denver and I realize that I hate airports and I hate crying and I hate feeling weak. And everything in my head is everything that I don’t want to think about anymore. I hate goodbyes. I hate the way I think sometimes. I hate airports. 

I think over the past and how much I want to go back, but today is today and it’s all I have, and the knowledge of that is both torturous and wonderful. And I realize more and more that life is all about hellos and goodbyes and we can’t have one without the other, really. Maybe that’s what it comes down to - finding a way to live with what we have, today. Even if that takes all the air out of our lungs, even if we aren’t sure how to stand. This is it. This is all we have. This is all I have today, but it’s enough. Because all we have are todays. Hellos. Goodbyes. And choosing to be happy despite all of the times we feel like quitting — that’s the challenge. That’s the beauty. 

The more I learn about life, the more I’m fascinated with it and in love with it. And as a child I never thought that I’d be where I am now, but I think that’s a good thing. Because where I’m at now is better than anything I’ve ever imagined. And maybe losing my childlike love of airports isn’t a bad thing. Because maybe I’ve finally learned to appreciate hellos.