But there are hundreds of people here now and not one of them was Lina. I see a couple sitting on a bench holding hands. The guy has a large hiking bag by his feet and the girl is resting her head on his shoulder. His arm is wrapped around her and she meets his encircling caress with her hand, holding out against gravity by the intelocking of their fingers. He stares into the distance but she's looking up at him, head still but eyes scanning, drinking in every detail.
I've been there myself a million times. Once I had to say bye to Lina in Malaysia. I knew that I would probably be a mess after so I brought something to read to get my mind of it. The Economist - for the discerning pseudo-intellect. I sat at the waiting area of the airport balling my eyes out. Weeping, you know? It's only proper weeping if there's snot coming out of both nostrils. So there I was emptying my soul and buryring into the World Affairs section. A man sitting next to me leaned over and seeing that I had opened an article on interest rates (they expected a 1% increase that year), he looked at me concertedly and commiserated by asking if business was bad. I nodded. Business was pretty bad.
This guy was about to cry, I could feel it. I wanted to run to the nearest kiosk and catch him in an Economist, but he was all the way down there and I was up here on the balcony. I could only watch on as a woman approached the young couple.
In every train station there's always a confused middle aged woman. I guarantee it. They all kind of look the same as well, messy hair, reading glasses dangling from the neck, one too many bags, sandals and a flustered voice.
The Confused Woman stood in front of the couple and started gesticulating wildy with her hands which caused the girl to sit up straight and the guy to blink a few times in shock. It seemed like she wanted to know which platform took her to Newark (I'm good at sign language). The Confused Woman and the couple converse for a bit, the guy pointing her up the stairs in my general direction. She looks up at me, I make eye contact with her, smile and nod (I don't know why), now she's really confused.
She shakes her head like a computer rebooting and turns back to the couple. She seems to thank them. But before she turns to leave she notices that there's only one bag for the two young lovers on the bench. She points to it and asks them something. The couple turn to look at each other and the guy shrugs his shoulders sadly. The clasp their hands together and the Confused Woman says some parting words to them before hurrying along.