Stationed here, I’ve seen people come and go, sharing hugs, kisses and tears. I have seen the exchange of spine-crushing embrace, cold withdrawal and dejected returnees.
Today, a couple cuddled in my presence, one sought every reason to pick at the partner’s hem, the other looked nervously around.
Nothing unusual here travelers turn out in different shades and mood.
Only, my memory will not lie still.
A week ago, she was in the embrace of another, sharing hugs, kisses and tears. Flecks of promises flittered around.
I am stationed at a departure lounge: I see the frailties of man.
This story is a contribution to the Friday Fictioneers at Rochellewisofffields’ blog. Where a crush of writers are inspired by a photo prompt to express a story in 100 words. Please, click the linky icon up here to find other stories
“Maybe your first love is the one that sticks with you because it’s the only person who will ever receive all of you. After that, you learn better, but most of all, no matter what, a piece of you forever remains, left behind in the heart of the one you loved – a piece no future lover could ever get, no matter what. That piece holds innocence, the belief that love really can last forever. It holds friendship and pain, trial and error, that one kiss you’ll never forget, and that one night under the stars you can never get back. It holds youth and everything you thought love would be, everything that was proven wrong.” -Anonymous
I saw this post this morning on a WordPress blog and a few drops of tears rolled down my cheek. Yes, I am not shy to admit it, my first love left a yawning gap in my world.
If you ever get fortunate to find love a first time, enjoy the bliss of the moment. For either with ill or glee Love hasn’t promised anyone to stay. Only be grateful for a bite of its thrilling pleasure.