Sitting in the sunny window seat of a cafe last week, glancing outside between sips of my cappuccino and notes to my husband on chat, I saw a young man hanging around in front of the cafe. He had a backpack on, had ridden his bike there, and just stood around, waiting.
I went back to my chat and my coffee (and an olive oil torta–yum!) and a few minutes later, I saw that he wasn’t waiting any more. A lovely young woman had joined him: shorts, tank-top, and messy bun, fitting for the warm and sunny Boston summer weather. She practically jumped into his arms when she saw him. They were so happy to see each other.
I wondered to myself, how long had they been apart, waiting to see each other again? a week, a month, a summer? a few days? a morning?
Hopefully, they won’t mind that I intruded on their moment when I snapped this (out of focus) picture. But still, you can see how happy they are. Happy to be in each other’s arms again.
When I look at these two, I can feel my husband’s hands on my hips, as he pulls me close to him. And I can feel the scruff of his cheek against my arm as I squeeze him more tightly.
I never wanted to let him go.. but what an embrace it will be when we meet again.