First Farewell

I am now standing at a bus station, luggage at my feet, my favorite pair of black jeans snuggled around my butt, locket around my neck, back pack hoisted, jacket dangling from my arms, the works. I'm supposed to be out of here by now. I'm supposed to be on the next bus to the airport. I'm supposed to be checking by ticket as I pick on junk food. Every other person would be doing the same, except every other person doesn't have Jason L. Romero as their boyfriend.
Jason, the sometimes annoying love of my life, is standing right next to me, slouched of course, with his laptop in hand. Mr. Technical, Technical, Technical. He can't go 5 minutes without it

"I told you…." I said as I flung open my umbrella and shielded the two of us from the rain. Jason was doing my parents a favor by walking me to the bus stop. "They're not going to cancel my flight because of a slight drizzle."
His response: "You never know."

And ever since then Jason's been checking my flight.
I suppose he's doing all of this out of love. Still, I can't help but think Jason is overreacting; so what if this is the first time we'll be apart for over a month? We can still call each other. We'll still love each other.
And besides Jason, I tell him off in my head, it's not like terrorists planned to bomb Eurofly airlines the day I happen to be traveling.

A few months ago my Global teacher informed me that some students had the opportunity to study abroad for a semester in Paris, France. My parents knew I always wanted to go to Paris, so after the whole "We know you're responsible, you're a junior in college, blah ,blah, blah " speech, they gave me the ok. Sure, I had to pay for half my ticket, but 2 part time jobs were worth it. I'd go from Minimum Wage Kristine, waitress 3 days a week, 5 hours a day, to Parisian Chick Kristine, dining across from the Eiffel Tower. I'd trade in my apron for a barrette; Sounds like a fair deal.

I breathe out, slightly frustrated, and then glance at my watch. 8:45 AM. My bus leaves in 10 minutes. From there it takes 20 minutes to get to the airport, traffic permitting, and then it's basically a hop, skip, baggage check, and a jump away till I'm relaxing on my flight to Paris.
"C'mon Jas, I need to start going." I say, throwing my duffle bag around my shoulder and tugging on his sleeve.
"Wait, I want to double check." He pleads.
I sigh, frustrated, and then jab my finger up against his laptop screen. "See? It's right there! 'Flight 390, 9:45 AM, Springfield to Paris. Status: OK.' It's fine and on time, but if you won't even let me get on the bus I'll miss it!"
Jason chuckles. "Baby, I'm just worried about you."
"Well, you're worrying too much." I change my tone from ticked off to reassuring as I hug his neck. "I'll be fine, don't worry. It's only for a semester anyway."
"I know," He says looking down at me. "But we've never been apart for this long."
"Jason, when you think about it, we were apart for 16 years before we met. If we were able to get through 16 years, what's 4 months?"
"He laughs again, "Fine, fine." He lets go and grabs my bag off my shoulder. "Be sure to call me when you get there. Alright?"
There you go again, sounding like my parents. "Alright, I promise." I say as I finally board my bus. Jason hands me my duffle, and I throw it in the upper compartment before sticking my head out the window and saying goodbye.

The bus wheezes and pulls out of the depot. I lean back in my seat and close my eyes. Finally, this is it. I tell myself. I feel every little bump in the road as the bus moves along. A ball forms in my stomach, but it's not carsickness, over excitement, or nervousness.
I clasp the golden, heart-shaped locket around my neck. I haven't taken it off since I got it; Jason gave it to me for our sixth month anniversary. Up until now I've acting so cool, as if this trip made no difference in our relationship.

He has no idea how much I'll miss him.