Tokyo Station
The Narita express is a reserved seat passenger train that runs you from the airport to Tokyo station and Shinjuku. For a highly used commuter train, it is nearly spotless. Actually, it was cleaner than my house, which isn't saying a lot. The window ledges were free of dust, the floor was unstained and free of debris, and nothing was torn, broken, or missing. Compared to the busses in my city, this place was a rolling palace.The hour long ride through the Japanese country side is quite pleasant. You roll through small towns, farming communities, and Chiba (the only sizable city between Tokyo and the airport).
My anxiety about the marriage was still paramount in my thoughts. The closer we got to Tokyo station, the more I tried to force myself to think about things. I wanted to know how I would feel when I saw her and how I would handle everything.
As we pulled into the tunnel and slowed to a stop, I could see her on the platform waiting for me.
I grabbed my bags, hopped off the train, and walked towards her.
Walking upstream through the crowded platform, we nearly walked into one another. She carried an unashamed an excited smile and walked directly into my arms. In that one motion, that one moment, my fears just rolled off my jacket like rain. It felt so good to see her, and to remember how soft her skin feels against mine.
It was one of those moments where you realize you had forgotten the obvious. Being away from her so often and for so long has really damaged my view of our relationship. But I realized then and there that the damage was reparable. Easily reparable. And we'd have 5 and a half days to revel in the process.
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