Two songs

While driving to Stansted Airport, probably because the road was quite empty and there was no traffic, I had been distracted by the words of “Wicked game” playing on the radio

“The world was on fire, and no one could save me but you...”

Sure, thought, I wish there were still something like that in the world.

I was going to pick Leanne up at the airport, and I was totally focused on meeting her after our first meeting in Cadiz.

But for some annoying reason, that song must have passed through the layers of my attention as it kept singing inside my head long after it had finished

“I never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you”

At the airport, I had watched nervously – why nervously, then? - at the arrivals board, as if I could make the plane arrive earlier and safely, while that stupid song seemed to make fun of me inside my head

“What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way”.

And while I was listening to the speaker, announcing the landing of the flight from Jerez, in a haunting, fading out

“And I...don’t wanna fall in love... with you...”

When Leanne eventually came out of the arrival double door, she didn’t spot me immediately, and I was pleasantly surprised to see her wearing civilian casual clothes, not the usual uniform she was so proud of. Her hair collected in the unmissable Spanish bun– flamenco bun I had named it – her gaze always attentive, her movements flexible and agile.

Then she saw me. And something shifted in her expression. I felt a sting of sadness, as I thought she was sort of disappointed about something in me... But at the same time, I refused to focus on what I was feeling and moved my attention to her.

Once again, her eyes locked onto mine, wide, dark, deep

“There are things I wanna say to you...”

She came near me, without a word, without leaving eye contact, until she was too near, then she dropped her bag on the floor, like a dead weight, and without lifting her arms, simply put her left cheek on my chest, leaning her body against mine, gently, as if she could immerse herself in it.

I was holding my hands on her hips, welcoming her in my arms, but when I looked down, I saw something shining in her eyes, below her closed eyelids...

Tears. She was silently, smilingly, letting her tears flow

“But if you hold me without hurting me

You’ll be the first who ever did”

If I could absorb her body into mine, I would have done it. I closed my arms around her, holding her as tight as I could. Her arms felt tight on my back. And for a long moment we stayed like this, an island of two people in the crowd, randomly, noisily moving around us. But we heard nothing of them.

When we moved to the car park, I noticed she was following me. She wasn’t looking around, checking reference points. She was following me. And I felt something in my stomach. Something I decided not to listen to, yet.

During the drive back home, she said nothing. Not because she had nothing to say, no. Her eyes were full of many things. We were already talking. In a language I was surprised to be able to speak.

At home, she sat quietly on the sofa, looking at me with a gaze that said: now it’s the moment.

When I put my hand on her cheek, there, where she had that lovely black spot that always caught my eye, she held my hand against it, leaning her face against the palm of my hand.

When she opened her eyes again, I saw waves of tears, swinging inside, ready to flow in cascades of emotions. But she was smiling that Buddha smile of hers, containing a thousand things.

“There are things I wanna talk about”

Tell me, my love...

“But if you hold me without hurting me

You’ll be the first who ever did”

“I want you to kiss me”, she said, “till my lips crack”

I smiled, but she was serious. Terribly sweet and serious.

“And I want you to love me till I cry”, tears already flowing down her cheeks, “I need to feel all your love...I’ve been waiting for so long...”

Her words carried a surrender. A total, unconditional surrender. The sweetest I had ever heard.

I touched her lips with my finger. My lips followed.

We had many things to talk about, in that language that was now only ours.