I slow down the car, scanning the driveway for a safe place to stop. Spotting an empty space, I swerved in. Right next to the International Arrival Door 4 signboard. Perfect.
12.07pm. My phone blinks. It's from him. 'Dee the flight juz touched down. Will be out in 30mins. Muah.' A wide smile sweeps across my face. Finally!
I try to imagine what he looks like after three weeks of limited civilization and hours of
hard labor hardcore trekking. He probably won't be bald anymore, maybe even a bushy beard... Then I can turn it into a sexy goatee! Always thought he might look nice with a little goatee...
Should stop fantasizing. I grab the Japanese textbook (brought it along just in case I had to wait in the car) lying on the passenger seat and start to flip through the sample test questions. Finding it hard to concentrate, I glance around outside instead. Some people with huge backpacks and Teva-like sandals are pushing out of revolving Door 4. My heart skips a beat. Is it him?
No. It's just a couple of shaggy-haired Mat Sallehs in very crumpled linen shirts and khaki pants. I shake my head and try to focus on the test questions. He won't be out for another 30 minutes...
12.22pm. I realize I've been on the same page for 15 minutes. I give up and toss the book to the back seat. Who am I kidding? I can't stop myself from looking outside every few minutes. Getting impatient, I lean my forehead onto the steering wheel - it feels cooling on my skin...
Is that him??! I see a young man walking out of Door 4, a trolley of backpacks in front of him, a pair of dark sunglasses perched on his nose. I crane my neck further to get a better look - same height, same type of clothing style, a little pudgier than usual... but maybe he put on weight? I imagine the boyfriend so embarrassed by his weight gain that he started wearing sunglasses indoors. Oh baby! I'll never discriminate you! I will be totally understanding and not-
A woman, also with sunglasses on, comes up from behind and hooks her arm onto the pudgy young man. Oh. That's not him (it'd better not be). Come to think of it, he's a little on the short side.
12.46pm. It's been more than half an hour since he texted me. What could be holding him up? Maybe someone stuffed bags of cocaine in his backpack without his knowing, and now the custom officers are doing a strip check on him?! ...Or maybe his luggages are just delayed, that happens all the time... Unless his luggages have been lost?!
I catch a flash of yellow as the revolving door spins into action again. Even though I couldn't see the person properly, the figure feels familiar, the way he moves, the way he's looking left and right before pushing the trolley onto the zebra crossing...
It's him! And he's scanning the crowd, his face expressionless until he sees me in my car, breaking into a grin.
I jump out of the car and walk towards him, determined not to run even though I feel like skipping my way to him. He stops in front of me, and wraps his arms around me. 'I missed you.' He smells so familiar. I hug him back tightly - he's lost weight.
"You lost weight," I told him, looking up at his smiling eyes as we break away from each other and walk towards the car.
"Ya? Alot ah?"
I circled my arms around him and gave him another squeeze. "Uh huh."
"Yaa, I lost 5kg! Crazy trip. You know we only ate dahl and bread everyday?? And 14 hours of non-stop trekking, but the..."
And we're back to normal. =)
