She sighed. Why was she doing this to herself? Why was she building up her hopes, just so he could dash them again? She chastised herself for her stupidity, but couldn't stop being who and what she was. After all, who can win a battle against their own heart?
She drove into the parking lot in the airport, and went into the arrivals lounge to wait for him. Perhaps this time he might have come back for her, rather than one of his girlfriends. She sat down and waited for his flight to arrive - waited and prayed for him to find it in his heart to return her love.
What can I do to make you love me?
What can I do to make you care?
What can I say to make you feel this?
What can I do to get you there?
* * * * * * * *
He sat in the seat of the aircraft, thinking about her. He knew she would be there in the airport to meet him. She was always there when he came back. In a way, he came back home to her. But she had always distanced herself, not shown any interest in getting involved with him romantically, always preferring to be his friend.
He'd tried, so many times to tell her how he felt, but when the time came to speak of his love he pulled back. He was afraid that she would reject him, and he didn't know what he would do if she did. He lived hoping that someday, she would love him too. If he lost that hope, he wouldn't be able to survive.
Maybe, today, he really was coming home to her. Perhaps by some miracle this time she might have come to understand his love for her.
He looked out his window as the aircraft descended; his heart filled with hope. Hope that she would accept his love.
What can I do to make you love me?
What can I do to make you care?
What can I say to make you feel this?
What can I do to get you there?
* * * * * * * *
She stared restlessly at the list of arrivals, impatient for his plane to land. She sat down again, her hands clenched. She made her decision. She would tell him today. No more waiting. She had kept it to herself for too long.