It's strange to say bye to the person you love the most, to say bye for 3, 4 or maybe even 6 months. How do you do it? When should you give the last hug, the last kiss?
You're in the airport, she carries a bag and has the hands on your hips. That feeling, that old feeling again: her hands, still on my hips, I can still feel the warmth.
We've said bye from so many different airports: Madrid, London, San Francisco, Hong Kong, Paris, Barcelona: everywhere, your hands remain on my hips for several hours, when I will go to bed they will still be there. How do I go to bed? How? When I can still smell you in the sheets...
I was afraid that our goodbyes where becoming just another routine. I was afraid I was getting used to them. I was afraid I could say bye and don't feel a river of sadness crawling up my throat. But it's not the case: I am just like I was the first goodbye, in Paris, when I could not walk the streets no more, when I was crying everywhere I looked.
Today, I planned for the hours after the goodbye. I will be meeting George in half and hour, and we will talk. I will tell him that I want to live with you, no matter how scared I am every time I think of it. I will also meet some friends from primary school, I don't really know what we will talk about, but for sure, seeing other lives unfold will give hope to my own life.
Then, after all the postponings, the time will come to walk upstairs again, and open the door of my empty appartment, and try to sleep. Let's see if I find you online then, Joaquin, and we drink for who knows what.
I am scared of loneliness every time I confirm I am lonely no more, because I have you, and your hands, on my hips.