Shaking and feeling nauseous, I answered “No, this is the first time we are meeting.” He looked at me with cold, almost lifeless eyes for one second as my voice shook with nerves and fear. He turned his head back to his computer, marked on the paper at his hands, and continued typing. The immigration officer interrogated me and treated me like a terrorist attempting to enter his country. The man, who was sealing my fate, asked the dreaded question “how did you meet?” I had heard this question every day for two years, so I answered with the practiced line “we met online through a game.” He looked up again as if to see a lie run across my face, but I was not lying. The tears were pushing against their entrapping ducts threatening to escape. I felt the stamp before it hit the page. My heart lifted as he handed me my dream with his cold eyes and welcomed me with a smile that could have shaken the dead, “Enjoy your stay in Manchester.” I quickly grabbed my passport and looked at the page where he had sealed my fate. I smiled and ran to the restroom to relieve myself after a sixteen hour trip with little time to go.
For the last two years, I had given up hope. Yet, there I was standing in front of the mirror. I took out my braid and combed it to get the desired wavy look I had promised. My long, blonde hair was shaking with my body as I washed my hands, stretched my dress, attempted to relax, and get rid of the airport/plane smell that lingered on my skin. After a few moments of catching my breath I left the restroom to go through customs. I followed a family from my flight through the green “nothing to claim” automated doors and attempted to find my way to the arrivals area.
As soon as I stepped out on the stairs the smell hit me. The stale clean air had been filled with the smell of coffee, nerves from anxious welcomers, and various cultural smells. I could see several people waiting at the bottom of the stairs, but they were not who I was looking for. I saw movement to my left and looked. He was there; he was moving towards the stairs. I picked up my suitcase, wrapped my “personal” bag to my left, and ran down the stairs towards him. I stopped in front of him. I took a step closer and hugged him as if it would be my last. He laughed and I could hear him sigh with relief. “Hello beautiful,” he kissed my head and wrapped his arms around me. His body relaxed around mine and formed the sanctuary that has become the place I call home today. He let go. My heart dropped. I was afraid to look into his tired eyes to see why I had been pushed away, so I looked at his clothing. He was wearing jeans, a blue shirt, and a grey jacket that brought out the blue in his green eyes. He grabbed my hand, took my suitcase, and led me to a café where his mum was waiting. She looked up past her glasses, pulled me into her busty chest, and yelled “Oh my darling! That was quick! How are you?” I smiled as I took her in. She was tanned, shorter than her son, she was full, a little heavy, but I could see the strength in her. So began the interrogation about my trip and how I had slept. I tried to keep up, but I was a little slow due to only an hour’s sleep. They led me to the doors that would rush me into the beautiful country of England.
My boyfriend of two years had worked hard to get a job to buy my tickets so we could finally reach this moment. I had worked hard too, but I had only made enough to pay for my food and shopping money. My love, my world, my dream squeezed my hand as we walked to the car to take me home. He held me close and pulled me closer when a car passed by. My hand felt like glass in his hand. So gentle, so caring was his hand on mine as if he had let go I would have dissipated into the thin July air. Ms. Bailey, my boyfriend’s mother, unlocked the car and popped the “boot”. I helped Greg, my boyfriend, put my suitcase in the British version of a trunk and he opened the backseat door for me. He sat up front to be the navigator until we got to Manchester Piccadilly train station to pick up Ms. Bailey’s friend Tony. I relaxed into the seat and pulled my dress down as my bag had pulled it higher up my thighs. Greg reached his long, slender fingers back and held my hand gingerly. I felt the darkness of sleep closing in as we pulled out into the road-I fought it to watch the passing of history filled, old buildings. We made it to the train station before Tony’s train arrived so we drove across the street to wait. We parked next to a seemingly abandoned building and sat. Greg crawled into the backseat and motioned for me to come close. He pulled me into his chest and I melted into his chest as his piercing, green eyes watched me interlace our fingers. I felt his heartbeat and his chest rise. I felt his lips gently brush my cheek and suddenly on my nose. I sighed and closed my eyes. Ms. Bailey stepped out of the car to take a phone call and sunbath in the morning light for a moment. I looked up into his eyes as he whispered “come here.” I felt the butterflies seconds before his lips caressed mine. They were soft, nervous, yet passionate. I could feel them saying I love you and I could feel the emotions of the past two years behind them. “What would I do without your smart mouth” broke the silence. We laughed and smiled at each other as I settled back in so we could listen to our song.
Later we picked up Tony and drove home to Wales. We stopped after about two hours of driving at Powis Castle and explored the fairy tale like grounds then went back on our way. Greg and I spent the ride cuddled up and I allowed myself to fall asleep in the cradle of his arms. I slept without nightmares for the first time in what felt like forever. His arms wrapped around me and his lips gently kissed my head. I was safe despite the fact that I was lying across the backseat unbuckled. We had dreamed and spoke about that moment since we fell in love and it had happened finally. The moment was perfect and confirmed our every thoughts and dreams.
Our hearts will be reunited with home in December this year and will become one when Greg asks for my father’s blessing to marry me the next December. Despite the distance, our love has grown and become stronger. I learned that hard work pays off and dreams can come true. I will never refuse to allow myself to dream again. Love will persist beyond borders, beyond cultures, and beyond expectations.