I’m sitting at gate 81 of the Brisbane Airport as I type this...
I’m sitting at gate 81 of the Brisbane Airport as I type this… 3 hours before I’m scheduled to depart. Way too early because the boy had to drop me off and then take a long drive back to Toowoomba before it gets too late.
I’ve never thought I’ll cry so hard… I mean, we have been through this countless times. He flies, I fly… so many departures and reunions at different airports around the world. We ought to be used to this by now, shouldn’t we?
But I ended up crying in the middle of dinner - “this feels like the last supper” - and bawling my eyes out again when he pulled up at the airport.
“I’ll see you in 2 weeks alright baby girl!!”
“NOOO. It’s TWELVE days!!!!!!!!!”
And so, the counter resets again. T-12 it is now.
I can get through this.
I will get through this.
