sjsprWriting

We're at an airport, but at the same time, I am not. 

It's as if I'm only a spectator behind glass, because I see them; all waiting in line at the security point. They chat animatedly to each other, but I only know this because I see their lips moving rapidly, rapidly, but I hear no noise. 

And there you are. You're leaving but not gone just quite yet, and you're talking to someone next to you, whom you have your arm wrapped around, and I realize with a shock that its not me. 

I want to whimper or shout, but the ringing, deafning noise in my ear reminds me that there is no possible sound here.

You're smiling, you're laughing. It's killing me.

I'm supposed to be going with you. I'm supposed to be there. 

Suddenly, you're moving forward down the line, and that's when panic strikes in me. The further you slink down, the closer you pull that person to you. 

You put your shoes back on; a new journey starting for you beyond that line.

And then, you're done. You put your hand in theirs and you turn your back to me, an dwalk on, and you're finally leaving, you're quite there already. Keep on walking, you don't look back, and I'm banging against the glass panels and I'm shouting, but not really. In my head I'm shouting to wait, stop, don't go without me, that's not me, it's not fair, just please. Don't..go..without me..

I cannot see your figure anymore, and you're finally gone. 

Going, going...gone.