Runway And The River of Tears

The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the skyline of Islamabad. The International Airport buzzed with the frantic energy of travelers rushing between gates and security checks, some with excitement in their eyes, others with dread. Among the crowds, two figures stood in stark contrast to the chaos around them: Zeeshan and Waqas, standing near the departure gates, deep in conversation, though words seemed few.

Zeeshan was wearing a grey jacket, his usual smile replaced by a quiet seriousness. His bag, packed for his journey, rested by his side. Waqas, taller and more composed, had a look of melancholy about him that seemed to contrast his otherwise calm demeanor.

They had been friends for years—inseparable since their college days. But now, as Zeeshan was about to board a flight that would take him to a foreign land to work, everything felt different. The airport had never felt so cold, so distant.

“I can’t believe you’re actually leaving, man,” Waqas said, his voice tight as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Zeeshan sighed, his hand running through his hair. “I know. I wish it weren’t like this, but you know I have to go. It’s a good opportunity, Waqas. For both of us.”

“But it doesn’t make it any easier, does it?” Waqas asked. His eyes, usually so steady and composed, were betraying his emotions now. “We’ve been through so much together. How do you expect me to be okay with this?”

Zeeshan looked down at the ground, his throat tightening. He wanted to tell Waqas how much he would miss him, but the words caught in his chest. There was so much to say, so much to feel. Saying goodbye was never easy, but this? This felt like an ache that wouldn’t go away.

“You know I hate this, right?” Zeeshan said quietly. “But I have to. This is my future, Waqas. We’ve always had our plans, but plans change. You of all people should understand that.”

Waqas clenched his jaw. He did understand, but that didn’t make the pain of separation any easier. The thought of not seeing Zeeshan’s face at their favorite coffee shop, not hearing his sarcastic jokes, not sharing in their late-night talks about the future—these thoughts cut deep.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Zeeshan,” Waqas admitted, his voice shaking slightly. “I don’t want to lose you. What if everything changes? What if you come back different? What if… what if this is it? What if this is goodbye for good?”

Zeeshan reached out, placing a hand on Waqas’s shoulder. “It’s not goodbye, Waqas. It’s just… a pause. A break. We’ll make this work. I’ll come back. I promise.”

But even as he said the words, Zeeshan felt the weight of them. He wasn’t sure if they were promises he could keep. The future was an unknown, and no matter how much they tried to control their destinies, life had a way of changing everything in the blink of an eye.

Waqas shook his head, a single tear escaping his eye, betraying the stoic expression he tried so hard to maintain. “I just want things to stay the way they are. But I know they won’t. And I guess I just don’t know how to deal with that.”

The tears that fell from Waqas’s eyes seemed to mirror the heaviness Zeeshan felt in his own chest. He wanted to tell Waqas that everything would be okay, but how could he? How could he promise that when he wasn’t sure himself? Instead, he gave his friend a gentle squeeze on the shoulder.

“Hey, don’t be like this,” Zeeshan said softly. “We’ll still be here for each other. No matter how far apart we are. You’re my best friend, Waqas. And nothing changes that. Nothing.”

Waqas looked up, meeting Zeeshan’s eyes. There was a rawness in his gaze, a vulnerability that neither of them had ever shown before. The moment felt timeless, like the world had paused around them.

“Promise me one thing,” Waqas said, his voice hoarse. “Promise me we won’t lose touch. That this won’t be the end of us.”

Zeeshan smiled, but it was a smile tinged with sadness. “I promise,” he said, holding Waqas’s gaze. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

The intercom crackled to life, announcing that the flight to London was now boarding. Zeeshan’s heart skipped a beat. The moment was here. He could feel his stomach twist with the nervous excitement of embarking on something new, but also with the deep sadness of leaving behind everything familiar.

“I guess this is it then,” Zeeshan said, stepping back, his hand lingering in the air between them.

Waqas looked at him, eyes now full of unshed tears. His lips quivered, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. The weight of the moment said it all.

Zeeshan hugged Waqas one last time, the embrace lingering longer than either of them had expected. The two friends stood there in the middle of the airport, as the world rushed by them, oblivious to the moment of farewell unfolding. The only sounds were the soft murmurs of people moving around them, and the gentle beat of their hearts.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” Zeeshan whispered against Waqas’s ear.

Waqas pulled away, nodding but unable to speak. He didn’t trust his voice to stay steady.

Zeeshan gave him one final smile before turning toward the gate. His footsteps echoed in the empty space, the sound oddly hollow in the bustling terminal. Every step felt like it carried the weight of a thousand memories—laughter, adventures, arguments, quiet moments. The road ahead was uncertain, and yet, there was something about the unknown that pulled him forward.

Waqas stood still, watching his best friend walk away. The airport terminal seemed to blur around him as the tears flowed freely now, the dam that had been holding them back finally breaking.

He turned to face the vastness of the terminal, but the emptiness felt overwhelming, like the weight of the world had suddenly landed on his shoulders. A lifetime of memories flashed before his eyes—moments of joy, and moments of quiet understanding. In an instant, he realized that life wasn’t about holding on to the past but about embracing the future. But no matter how much he Tried to convince himself, the ache in his chest didn’t lessen.

Zeeshan’s figure grew smaller and smaller, the distance between them widening. The tears he had fought to hold back were now streaming down his face, as he whispered to himself, “I’ll wait for you. I’ll always wait for you.”

As Zeeshan passed through the gate, he turned around one last time, catching a glimpse of Waqas standing alone, his shoulders hunched, his face wet with tears. For a moment, Zeeshan felt a sharp pang in his heart. It hurt to see his friend in pain, but it also reminded him of why he was doing this—why he had to leave.

The plane was waiting, but so was the promise. A promise of coming back. A promise of not letting go.

As the doors to the plane closed, Zeeshan sat down in his seat, looking out the window at the runway—the river of tears that had been spilled that night. It felt like a boundary between their past and future, a place where everything was both final and yet somehow still open, still waiting to be written.

And so, with a deep breath and a heavy heart, Zeeshan took off into the sky. The runway below him, the river of tears behind him, and the journey ahead was just beginning. But in his heart, the one thing he knew was certain: no matter where he went, Waqas would always be there—waiting, just like he promised.

The tears would eventually stop. The distance would fade. But true friendship? That never ends.