Arrival

I stood up to check Kyle’s flight status on the small screen for the third time. Ten more minutes. I groaned. I haven’t seen my son in five years. Five fucking years. And suddenly, that felt much shorter than ten minutes. It felt like the universe decided to slow down time as if it wanted to prolong my agony.

I kept clenching and unclenching my right hand to keep my cool. 

Ten minutes. No big deal. 

As I was about to sit back down, the woman sitting beside my seat gave me a cold look. “Can’t you just stay put? You’re making me dizzy.” She said as I sat down. I furrowed my eyebrows and looked at her. What’s up with her? 

“And can’t you just mind your own business? You’re making my head hurt.” I countered. 

The woman scoffed and went back to look at her phone in her hand. Usually, I would feel bad for being an ass. Today wasn’t obviously one of those days, though. A few seconds later, I could hear the woman tapping furiously on her phone, as if she was venting out to her best friend. The sound of it made me want to pull my hair out, so I decided to just get as far away from her as possible. 

Eight minutes. 

I couldn’t believe it’s already been five years since I last saw Kyle. It’s also been five years since the day I decided to change things for the better. Five years sober. I hope Kyle will be proud of me as much as I am to myself. It wasn’t an easy journey, that’s for sure. Especially if you were left all on your own. Most of the time, I would lose the will to keep going because of that reason. 

 My wife, Mary, died a few years back in a car accident, and I wasn’t able to handle it well. I didn’t know how to cope with it in a healthy way. I let my world revolve around beers and fistfights and all that. I drowned myself in anger, grief, and misery that I overlooked the fact that I still have someone in my life: Kyle.

I realized that I’d hurt him more than his mother’s death. Though I wish I’d realized it sooner because it was already too late when I wanted to make things right. Maybe it’s for the best — him leaving. Every step he took felt like a dagger in my heart. The closer he got to the entrance of the airport, the more tempted I was to call out his name and convince - or more like beg - him to stay. 

I was ready to do just that. But then I realized that that would’ve been unfair to Kyle. Seeing me gradually destroying myself must have taken a huge toll on him. No. It did take a huge toll on him. He would only hate me even more if I didn’t let him go. I was left standing by my car, finally letting my tears fall down. I tried my best to blink the tears away while Kyle was still around. I didn’t want him to see me cry. But what difference would it make, though? He’s already seen how much of a wreck I am, anyway.

I wish it didn’t come to this. It wasn’t supposed to. But that’s just how things are, I guess. Sometimes you fuck up, and then you fuck up some more. And sometimes, you only start to appreciate the things you have once they’re taken away from you.

The moment I got a call from Kyle one day, saying he’s ready to come back home, was the best thing that’s ever happened to me in five years. It was as if the cloud hanging over my head was finally gone. I honestly didn’t think he would still want to come back. But I was wrong. Thank God I was wrong because one thing’s for sure now: I’ll finally be able to make things right again. 

Five minutes.

I didn’t notice I was already getting emotional until a tear dropped on the photograph that I was looking at in my wallet - Kyle and I kissing Mary’s cheek while she was holding a sunflower. I wiped the tear away with my thumb and smiled. Kyle and I would always bring Mary some flowers every time we went out and she would stay in the house. Tulips, sunflowers, roses, daisies . . . whatever Kyle wanted to give her mom. And Mary would always give Kyle a kiss on the forehead and me a peck on the lips. 

Mary and I used to dance. A lot. After having been kissed on the forehead by his mom, Kyle would run straight into the house to grab his violin. Then Mary and I would dance to whatever song he felt like playing. He only knows how to play two songs, though: Beautiful in White by Shane Filan and Perfect by Ed Sheeran. We danced a lot, alright, but that doesn’t mean we were good at it. Mary would often step on either one of my feet by accident, which always, always, leads to us dancing off-beat. And then we would both laugh it off until we regained our footing.

It’s always so comforting to hear Mary’s laugh; it’s enough to lift your spirits up. Maybe that’s why that was how I reacted upon her death. But that doesn’t justify all my actions. Nothing ever will.

Three minutes. 

I put my wallet back in my pocket and sighed.

God, I miss her so much. 

I wonder what Mary thinks of me now. She must have hated me when I was still a mess. I looked up at the ceiling and gulped.

Don’t worry, love. I’m going to make things right. I promise. 

I stood up from my seat when ten minutes had already passed and walked towards where Kyle will be coming out from. My heart was already pounding out of excitement. I gulped as some passengers were finally seen. I scanned every face that passed by. No sign of Kyle yet.

Almost five minutes have passed and I still haven’t seen him. I was starting to get anxious. “Dammit, where are you?” I mumbled.   

“I believe you’re looking for me,” a familiar voice said. My eyes widened. I slowly turned around and there he was. My boy. My ray of hope. And for the first time in five years, I got to see his precious smile again. "Hi, Dad."

A tear escaped from my eye, but this time, I didn’t care if Kyle saw it. 

“Welcome back, son.”