Random of Random

I'm Coming Home

“Do you have to go?” He asked and his fingers lightly traced my jaw. Tears brimmed my eyes, but I nodded. He stared into my eyes and I stared back, memorizing every detail about this man; the deep blue of his eyes and the laugh lines that were permanently etched on his face. Familiar lips that had caressed mine since we were twelve. Gentle but rough hands that had held mine on cold winter afternoons. Brunette locks that were tussled and wind blown from his ride to meet me here.

“You’ll come back eventually, right?” He asked. His expression said a thousand contradicting things I want you to stay. I want you to go. Be happy when you’re gone. Be happy where you are. I’m happy you’re going. I hate that you’re leaving. It was all a jumbled mess. I didn’t know what I could do to fix things, and even if I found out what I could do, I couldn’t do it. My portfolio had already been sent and my application had been accepted; the final day for corse registry was in two days.

I smiled and hugged him, gripping the thick leather jacket I’d gotten him two years ago, the same christmas he got his bike. I buried my face in his neck and inhaled the comforting natural scent he always wore. There was no need for cologne when it came to him. “I’ll come back eventually. This is home, after all.” I leaned back with my arms still around him. “Plus, there’s vacations spread out through the years.”

He nodded and pulled me close again before planting a kiss on my lips then my forehead. “Go. That big league college of yours is waiting. But don’t forget us little people when you become a big league artist or whatever.”

He was smiling, but again his eyes conveyed a message that said he wanted me to stay with him. But we both knew that I had a natural artistic gift. And the college up North was the key to making a career out of it. It was beyond expensive and I had been saving up, along with my parents, since middle school so I could go to this university. He didn’t have that kind of money.

I wished with everything I had in me that he could come with me and be my rock just like he was here and had been since we were young. But that little fantasy was harder to attain than most.

“Last call for flight 823B.” A metallic voice called over the speakers and I looked towards the gate, then back.

“I’ll see you soon, okay? I promise I’ll be back!” I turned away and picked up my carry on. As I started to walk away, I could have sworn I heard him say he loved me, but when I looked back, he was just smiling and waiting for me to take a step on that plane to make my dreams come true. I smiled back and waved before taking that first step into a pathway that would lead to a plane that would fly me to my dreams.

But when I found my seat and looked out the window towards the air port, he was there, standing at the huge window with his hand pressed against the glass as if to remind himself that it was there to stop him from chasing after me. I pressed my palms onto my thighs to keep myself rooted. I looked away from him, knowing if I looked for a second longer I would stand and throw it all away to go back to him. All I had to do was look straight ahead for ten minutes until the plane was no longer in contact with the tarmac. Let me tell you, longest ten minutes of my life.

It’s been six years since that day and I haven’t returned home to Mills Creek once in that time. Any chance where I could have been able to, I’ve either been away at a conference to better my education, or my studying took priority. I haven’t seen Miles Larson since that day at the air port either, and with all my studies, he’s faded to the back of my mind.

Six years in a big university pushing to form a career can change a person. But I’m home now. And I haven’t changed that much, have I?