We are two strangers, accidentally meeting at this terminal. Then we talk, have coffee, and share bites of a slice of chocolate cake. My choice, the dark one.

I like your company; you seem fun. A fun stranger. You have a sweet smile, a good scent. I think I could kiss you. I’ll decide later.

You already know your destination.

“Have you bought your ticket?” I ask.

“No, not yet. But I know I’ll go there soon. For now, I’m here.”

Good. I still don’t know mine. You didn’t ask, but still, I keep telling you. You’re just a polite creature, still listening though I know you don’t really care, not even a bit.

I have no baggage with me, so I can go freely wherever I want, the moment I decide. On the other hand, you carry your old baggage wherever you go. It’s obvious that dragging that cargo slows you down from moving forward.

I really want to say: if you want to move fast, just leave your old baggage behind and travel light. Life is already heavy enough without the extra weight of the past.

But we are just two strangers at this stop. Who am I to give opinions about your baggage? You’re just a stranger. A nice stranger.

I stay silent, and the moment passes. Now, you’re ready for your next flight, while I’ll be staying here a little longer.

Ah… goodbye is always painful, even to a stranger.

Bali International Airport, in my mind.