Gemotions

From the airport window, the city lights blurred into a hazy mosaic. I slumped in my seat, the plastic digging into my back. This flight was supposed to reunite me with my childhood sweetheart, now my husband. The anniversary. We'd been separated for months. I reached into my bag and pulled out a faded postcard she'd sent me from the city. The simple message, in her handwriting, warmed me for an instant, a small beacon of comfort. The delay felt like a personal affront, a cruel interruption to a story I longed to complete. The anticipation, the excitement, now tinged with a hollow ache.