Bittersweet

At the table she sits, and, as if in an old black and white Hollywood movie, sunlight streams into the age old bar with its filthy windows, illuminating only her. My heart slams against my chest. I'm caught off guard. What is this?

As the best of friends, we wished each other well. I slowly approach and wonder if she will allow a final kiss. Without backing away, she lets my arms slide around her waist. We press our bodies close; the familiar warmth envelopes me. Our lips touch. As the plane took off, I knew that I would never see her again.