August Nights

1

Stargazing. The smell of the earth after it rains, or after you mow the lawn. Misty mornings by the sea, tea to warm you up and warm chocolate chip cookies to make you smile. Lavender and daffodils in the spring, fields of blue bells, or sunflowers, of strawberries. The smell of old books, of an old church, the memories both hold. Soft whispers in the night, an exchange of trust, secrets, love. Quiet afternoons, the radio in the morning with the soft sizzle of bacon in the-

Well I am vegetarian now so no bacon for me.

But the smell of breakfast and the tired hello smiles of your family. Open windows, cold breezes, sunlight, no- moonlight.

Things that are so simple, things that you don't appreciate enough. That you don't think, wow, this is so so beautiful in the moment. It's all so beautiful and I want to feel it all, I want to see it all.

I guess there isn't really a reason for me to have wanted to run away. I've got a great life, no real problems. But sometimes I just wanna get up and go, without any direction. I want to lose my way and forget where I come from. But here I am, back home, waiting for someone to pick me up from the airport. Probably Rayne, hopefully Rayne. It just depends if my Dad lets him.

I had just spent the last month studying in this little town in Italy called Portofino. I somehow managed to get myself a place on this June mentoring programme under this beautiful Italian writer called Miss Achille. I say beautiful because not only do her words spill such magnificence, she was beautiful inside and out. And for some reason, she had turned sixty and decided to grace a handful of students and bring them to her, send them on little adventures, force inspiration, force creativity upon them and it was the best thing I have ever done.

And not necessarily because she taught me so much, more because she illuminated the world for me in a way I had never seen it before. The beauty in the little things. And now it seems this need to explore is never going to get satiated. Waiting at the airport for Rayne, all I want is to turn back around and discover more. To find more.

The best part about airports lies in what they symbolise. Airports for me always used to be stressful, the chaos, I used to feel like I could see the stress literally escaping people's pours and fogging up the air like a toxic pollution and then I used feel it being dragged into my chest, my lungs, my blood. Other people's stress. I didn't need that.

But now, airports mean new beginnings, long awaited endings, arrivals and departures, hellos and goodbyes. I sit with my suitcase in one of the chain airport coffee-shops. Airports are fascinating to me as it's one of the only places where you can enter one way and then step out a thousand miles away. You can enter from a desert and exit into a blizzard. In from winter, out into summer. In from familiarity, out into something completely new, different, scary, exciting. So exciting.

So many things happen at airports, tears, smiles, laughter, goodbyes. Goodbyes. There's a couple, probably only sat three meters away from me. I- casually eating a vegan cheese toastie which was honestly highly disappointing, couldn't bring my eyes away from being stuck on them. I couldn't help it. He was leaving. That was clear. They both seemed fine. So fine. But the way her hands shook when she reached for the coffee, indicated other wise. The way his leg was bouncing anxiously under the table showed he wasn't okay. Neither of them were okay, but instead they were just talking, softly exchanging casual conversation as he waited for his plane. And I wondered, maybe, if he was waiting for her to ask him to stay, or maybe she was waiting for him to say he couldn't go? But instead I bet they were talking about the delays, about the weather, about the news. I bet they were avoiding the topic of him leaving all together.

Or maybe not. Maybe they hardly knew each other. Maybe I was so far off it would be comical to actually know what was going on with them.

I looked away, searching for him because he should be here by now and as patient as I am, I also get worried. My dad didn't trust Rayne driving, despite being my best friend, and one of the last people to purposely put me in any danger, my father was slightly disapproving of me getting into his car. Which wasn't utterly unwarranted. The car he has currently... might be his fourth in two years.