I took a friend of mine to the airport this morning and I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again.
I’m hearing that old song playing in my head: “leaving on a jet plane, don’t know if I’ll be back again…” I hate it when that happens. Oldies and melancholy don’t mix well.
Two years ago I didn’t even know this fellow existed. Today my heart is broken because he’s leaving. Ironic, isn’t it? He’s going back home, to Brasil, to his family, to his wife and child he’s not seen in three years. I’m excited for him.
But I’m going to miss him.