Swiss Comfort

As I look out the window, I want to remember the last three weeks. I would stay longer in Switzerland, continuing my visits to castles and mountains, drinking with my friends, walking in the vineyard of my aunt. Although I have created many fond memories, the trip back will be melancholic.As I?m looking out the window, the row of seats move, someone sitting beside me. I sigh internally, hoping it would be empty, ignoring whoever is now there.As we take off, I gaze one last time at the beautiful country before the clouds cover the landscape.The soft cries that I?ve been hearing since takeoff become snuffles. I retrieve a pack of tissue Şerifali Escort and turn toward my left.Her beauty is mesmerizing, her long blond hair cascading on the seat, her deep blue eyes piercing my heart, and a delicate face that just makes you smile. Even though she has been crying for the past thirty minutes, she remains beautiful.Softening my voice, I tell her, ?For you.?Looking at me, she softly says with her Swiss-German accent, ?Dankschön. Sorry about my?? She doesn?t finish, tears running again.I smile compassionately to make her feel better. When she stops, I tell her, ?No need to be sorry. Can Şerifali Escort Bayan I ask what makes you so sad??With a trembling lower lip, she tells me, ?I?m relocating to work abroad, leaving my family, friends, and country behind,? crying as she ends.Over the next six hours, we talk about our respective gloom, her leaving, me going back home. We comfort each other, two strangers trying to help one another.After we land, we stay close as we go through the airport, only splitting at immigration. After a long wait, she finally appears, having received her work visa. We grab our luggage in silence, Escort Şerifali reality hitting home.As we head for the exit doors, I stop her. ?Here is my number, if you ever want company,? I tell her apprehensively.?I?d love to,? she tells me tenderly.As I give her the paper, our hands touch, thrill running through my arm. I smile widely at her, hoping she calls me soon.?Are you okay to head to your hotel?? I ask her.?A driver is waiting for me. You?? she replies softly.?My father is picking me up,? I answer, not leaving her deep blue eyes.A few silent seconds pass before she says, ?Shall we go??We cross the doors, I spot my father on the right, she goes to the left for the row of drivers. We look at each other before we head on our separate ways.On the drive home, my father tries to ask questions about my trip, but he soon realizes that I?m not in the mood. He drops me at my house, leaving me to my gloom, as reality hits me.