The airport and ghosts of the past

The first time I took an airplane was in 2009, to Kuching, Sarawak, a country full of history, enough for me to love it there. That's my first memory of flying, but I don't remember how I started loving aeroplanes in general.

I'd been reading my diaries from 2010, where I'd drawn lots of aeroplanes all over. I also have dozens of aeroplane paper clips, holding up old pictures in these notebooks, in a box in my drawer, just everywhere.

There was also this poem in one of Haruki Murakami's books, written in one of his short stories called "Aeroplane". I don't remember how exactly it went, but I know I was fascinated with that poem then, a poem which made zero sense to me.

There's also something about the airport, this vibe that makes me stay, even without doing anything. Like a home. 2012 was when I frequently went there, sitting at Dunkin Donuts, just writing away. Occasionally I'd head to the viewing plaza, but then I wouldn't write much because I'd be staring at planes instead.

The airport was also where I'd first met the one who used to mean the world to me. Where the 'love at first sight' magic had happened between the both of us. It was also where, 8 months later, I'd fetched him from his arrival from Bali, when he said he'd realised that we couldn't live long without each other. (that was what he said, I'd explain but psshhh.)

When we broke up, the airport became a place I tried to avoid. I just kept thinking that the memories would be too overwhelming, that I'd be too weak to handle it.

Just like with the North, I was wrong.

I paid a visit to the airport today, after a long time. I walked where I'd walked with him, but it really didn't scare me. It didn't bother me anymore; sure, the ghosts of the past walked alongside me but I just minded my own business and smiled at them. Don't cry because it's over; smile because it happened.

Now that another fear is down, I hope I can get back in good terms with the airport again. It's peaceful, you see all kinds of different people, doing different things, and you can just walk along anywhere in the airport, just being yourself, without looking out of place.

On a side note, I may love the airport, and aeroplanes, and exploring and travelling around Singapore, but I don't find myself wanting to travel the world. The interest is just not there. I feel contented enough with Singapore's roads. Yes, pretty sure that makes me weird.

And I apologise if this post is out of place, considering the recent chaos with the missing plane. It's just not my style to write about current affairs, something that everyone is talking about. I'll try one day though, okay???

Slowly letting go of 2013, slowly working hard to gain recognition for my writing.