Six Hours

I didn't know how quick six hours could fly by. I guess I don't really know what I thought. I suppose I had built it up in my head for so long that when it actually happened, I didn't know how to react. I felt... like a mixture of happy and surreal. I felt like I was half dreaming. Because I suppose that when you convince yourself of something, it's hard to talk yourself out of it. Or so, that's what I thought until I found myself leaning against a shoulder, against a car, being held, holding, laughing, smiling, dreaming... feeling alive. Six hours was enough to experience something I hadn't ever before. It was enough to feel at home. It was enough to be able to sit there, to listen in silence... and be just... fine...
It was enough to tell me everything, and nothing at all. Enough to say all that I loved, and all that I missed without knowing I missed it.
Funny, all that can grow in six hours  ten years.