Lost love is still love. It takes a different form, that’s all. You can’t see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it.
Can’t we be strangers
again and give each other
please a second chance?
This is a question we were all asked at one point or another in our childhood. Was it a doctor? Or an engineer? Perhaps a teacher? My answers varied depending on how old I was when I was asked the same thing.
I first wanted to be a dinosaur — a T-Rex or a triceratops. T-Rex because I really thought they’re amazing and huge creatures, like kings and queens of dinosaur land. I like triceratops, too, because they look really cute in my eyes then. As I grew up, I learned I can’t be a dinosaur but my love for them still grew. The T-Rex became who I want to be, strong and smart! And the triceratops? I really find them sexy when they walk. Haha!
Then a mutant. And I was so damn serious I wanted to be one. I’ve always wanted to be Magneto’s female version! 😉 Funny how as a child, we know what we wanted to be when we grow up, right?
I first attended school when I was three and a half years old. It was then that I wanted something I thought better than just being a dinosaur or a mutant. I wanted to be a nun. True story! Haha! Mainly because my teachers were nuns. But that changed soon enough when I realized I wanted to be a singer! Oh man, I love to sing! I still want to be a singer these days but I guess, singing in a karaoke bar or at home is as far as that dream could get. 😉
Come elementary years, I wanted to be an archaeologist and a librarian. This is mainly because of my love for reading. The books we had at home back then were volumes of encyclopedias and history books which my father enjoyed reading, not novels and stuff so I was very much interested in ancient past and material remains back then.
High school and college years were different. I wanted to be a lawyer then. And I wanted to be in the world of politics. I don’t remember quite well anymore what made me wanted this at that time but just like becoming a singer, it’s a dream I still have until now.
None of what I wanted to be when I was younger came true. I lead a totally different life now. A life far from what I imagined as a child. My interests changed and adjusted over the years. Being exposed to different environments or hobbies or new experiences molded me into who I became now. It’s good to know that I continue to evolve as I open up to change and new things. Lately though, I have this strong desire to become a dinosaur or a mutant again instead. And I’m serious…
So my dear readers, I want to know what it was you wanted to be when you grew up? Did it come true? Did it actually become your career now? Or a hobby? Or did it remain to be just an interest? I’d be really glad to know so feel free to write them in the comments.
Have a wonderful day, homo sapiens! 🙂
Started as strangers. Ended as strangers.
The best revenge is to be unlike him who performed the injury.
I will never forget the first time I’ve been to the airport to travel, not just to pick-up relatives vacationing from abroad. To travel not for leisure but for work. I was always fascinated with airplanes flying so high above me when I was a small girl. And so I was so flabbergasted when I got face-to-face with an airplane on one of the wide windows of the airport that night I’m bound for Kuwait. It was huge and magnificent that I had to stop, look and tell myself that it’s real, I’m looking directly at an airplane that I just used to see flying above me. I felt like the plane was staring back at me, too. It was wow! Then I went looking for my gate and I’ve seen a lot of people mostly Filipinos but many others with different nationalities, too! The shops, the monitors. And since then my love affair with airports has started.
I don’t travel much but yes, I love airports. There’s a different feeling whenever I arrive in airports. I love reaching them way earlier than my flight. For the past nine and a half years, I’ve been living eight minutes away from the airport. Sometimes, I go there to kill time. I go around then sit in a cafe as there are no cafes in my area. (Yes, you’ve read that right, none! Only Arabic style coffee shops that’s filled with thick, suffocating smoke from cigarettes and hookah/shisha/hubbly bubbly.) The Kuwait International Airport is small but development works are on progress so we’ll be seeing more of that in the next few months/years. Still, it’s okay to just go around the area where non-travelers are allowed.
When I travel though, as I’ve mentioned earlier, I love reaching the airport way earlier than my flight time. I go around the area before immigration then check-in then go around again. Once I pass the immigration, I continue walking around and checking all the shops without the intention of buying anything. (The only things I buy in airports are books and coffee.) Then after giving myself a tour of the entire place, I choose which cafe I’ll buy coffee from and find a good spot to read, write or just people-watch while waiting. People-watching in airports is never boring. Human drama right in front of your eyes.
Sometimes too, I just stare at several tv/monitors, big or small, showing the departure flights. Yes, I enjoy doing that. It makes me happy staring at all those flights change their status one by one — boarding, departing, delayed. Furthermore, I also like watching the ground crews do their jobs when a plane arrives at the gates. And I like seeing the pilots pass by us before boarding. Well, it’s nice to know who’s flying the aircraft, right?
I love airports not the way I love a certain restaurant, museum or shop. How so and why?
When I’m at the airport with my luggage and all, I know I’m set to another adventure. I’m riding an airplane. I am going somewhere. Some place other than where I am at the moment. A place I haven’t been to before or a place I’m returning to. Somewhere, someone or no one, is waiting for me. A place I might like or not. I’m going far away. Or I’m going home.
In addition, I feel most interconnected whenever I’m in airports. It’s a place so full of movements. A place full of change. My brain cells get so alive, active and energized. The diversity of people who crowd the airports, coming and going from one place to another for whatever reason. It’s compelling to see people of different nationalities, young and old, families, tour groups, solo travelers, waiting for their flights or just arrived.
Next, airports make you step back and wait. I mean, in this present world where everything just go by so fast, it’s just nice that whether you’re just transferring from one plane to another or having a really long layover, airports make you stand still, stop, pause, wait and think.
What’s more is that it makes me temporarily escape from my everyday life. From the person I choose to become. From the life I’m leading. It reminds me that I can go somewhere else again and start all over though it’s not going to be easy. The point is, there are many other possibilities, many cities, many countries to go to. Sometimes, seeing all the destinations in the monitors makes me realize where I really wanted to be.
Airports are a beautiful place of transition. For some, it’s where their journey begins, to others it’s where it continues or to many others, it’s where it ends. One thing’s for sure in airports though — no one stays. Everyone leaves.
Both photos are from Google. Credit to the owners.
There are plenty of ways to die, but only love can kill and keep you alive to feel it.