The airport

I had to make a couple of trips to the airport this week and at one point, while sitting there having a coffee, I was struck by a memory.

A memory of all of the times I drove EH to the airport when he travelled to the UK for work. I remembered the sadness I felt on the times when I dropped him off, not knowing when I'd be seeing him again, but also knowing that this was what had to be done.

I knew it wasn't easy for him. Leaving his home, his kids, his wife.

I remembered the times when I was so excited to pick him up. To see him again, for him to see his kids.

I also remembered the last time I dropped him off at the airport. On the 24th of January this year. I remember driving there and knowing in the back of my mind that things would never be the same again. I wasn't sad to say goodbye. Instead, I was relieved that he was leaving.

Relieved that I could have some peace. Some space to get my head around what was lying ahead of me. To finally make up my mind about what I wanted and needed to do with my life. I knew it was over.

I'm actually sitting here and crying as I type this. I still have moments when I'm so overwhelmed by sadness at what has happened. And the memories that returned to me this week at the airport have reminded me yet again of what was and what could have been if only he'd tried. But I wasn't worth it...

Madge