I wrote this last night... so I thought I'd share it with you. The title and quotes are from All I Want by Kodaline. Disclaimer: I own nothing, just these words. Please don't hesitate to share your thoughts, it would be highly appreciated.

If you loved me, why'd you leave me?

My heart is racing. I get out of the car, softly closing the door. I don't know why – there is no one around to hear. No one who cares, anyway. To all those people walking around the airport I'm just another girl. They probably don't even think twice about as to why I'm here. They probably think I'm here to catch a plane... or say goodbye to someone I love. They're not even that wrong.

I looked up your flight info online. Apparently they keep the pages with flights and everything updated all the time. I don't understand why, but to be honest, I don't really care either. I'm just happy it was there.

There is only one flight going to JFK, so I know that is the flight you are going to be on.

Is it weird that I followed you all the way to Columbus? Does that make me a creep? I guess it kind of does... but you're my ex-girlfriend. I have the right to be creepy around you. You've seen me at my strongest, and at my most vulnerable. We've been through it all together. I don't think you would care even if you knew.

Even though you and your mom are walking amidst the crowd, I'm still able to see you. I'll always be able to pick you out of any group of people, no matter how big or small it was. My eye will always see on you, no matter how much you try to be invisible. I think I knew that, back when we were still starting out. It seems so long ago... but my parents say it feels like yesterday I came running home, telling about a really beautiful girl with darker hair and a darker skin than I'd ever seen before.

You stop for a moment, looking around you. You haven't done much flying in your life – just to New York and back, and this is still new to you. I know it is, even though you'd deny it to anyone else. You'll probably deny it to me too, after today.

I swallow. Maybe this was a bad idea. I shouldn't have come here. But then I look at you, and I know I'm right. This might be my last chance to see you alone. Without Sam, I mean. Next week will be Mr. Schue's wedding, but Sam will be my date. Maybe you'll bring a date too. I hope you won't.

You laugh at something your mom says. I'm glad you can still laugh after what happened this afternoon. I was almost scared you lost it. The way you looked at me when I walked away... I don't think I'll ever forget it.

For a second I lose sight of you, and my heart skips a beat. My gaze wanders around the room, frantically looking for your dark hair. Finally I find you at some desk, talking to a woman. You're frustrated. I know, because you're using your hands while you speak and your brow furrows more every second. Normally I would take your hand, and squeeze it a little to calm you down. Now there is no one to calm you down anymore. Just your mom, and she doesn't know what to do. She's just standing there, smiling sheepishly at the woman behind the desk. Knowing her she has that look in her eyes that says, "Santana, behave," but you don't care. You're pissed.

I wish I knew why. We used to tell each other everything, and it kills me to know you have to deal with this on your own now. I know our relationship was always about guidance, at some point. You helped me when I didn't understand something at school, and I helped you when you didn't understand something with people. I can read people better than you can, but you're already amazing at it. It's just how our relationship works. I guess I should say worked, because I don't know if you still want to be friends with me after what I said today.

I want you to know I'm only trying to do what's best for you. It wouldn't have worked for you to stay in Lima. It would've made you unhappy, and that's the last thing I want for you. It's only until graduation. I promise, the day after I graduate I will come straight to New York. We can get an apartment together while we figure out what to do with the rest of our lives. If that's what you still want, in a couple of months. It's just a few months. That's nothing, compared to the years that still have to come.

The woman at the desks finally understands what you mean. She points her finger in a certain direction. She points her finger straight at me. I duck away behind a tall man. Did you see me? I don't think so. You narrow your eyes as you look straight at me, but you don't see me. You turn back, and say something. You probably thank the woman. That's how you roll. First you get angry with them, and then you're polite. I know it confuses people sometimes, but it never confuses me. It's just how you are.

You pick up your suitcase again. It's really small. Does everything you have really fit in that? Or are you just going to go to New York with a few outfits until you find a place to live? That makes sense, I guess.

I hide behind a potted plant as you walk past me, just a couple of feet away. If I wanted, I could reach out and touch your arm. You're that close to me. I want to. I really do. But I don't. I stay put, hidden behind a plant, while you walk by. I don't know if that makes me happy or sad. I guess it's a mixture of both.

I'm so preoccupied debating whether I'm happy or sad, that I don't notice you stopping. You must have turned around at some point, because you were already past me. It's only when I hear your voice that I look up.

"Brittany? Why are you hiding behind a potted plant?"

I bite my lip, trying to think of some good excuse. "I heard it's really good for your skin."

You crack a small smile – so small I almost missed it. "Did you follow me all the way to the airport?"

"Yes." I say it before I can think about it. Then, when I realize what I've just said, I shake my head. "I mean, no. I just..." I try casually leaning against the window behind me, "Happen to be here. Funny, that you're here, too."

"I told you I'm flying to New York tonight." Something about your tone tells me you see straight through my lies. I've never been good at lying, not to you.

"...Right," I say. "I must have forgotten."

"I texted you about two hours ago. Your memory is not that bad, Britt."

My heart fluttered at you calling me by my nickname. You almost never call me by my full name. It's always, "Britt," or "Britt-Britt," or something else. I don't know why, but it makes me feel better if you call me those.

I decide to give up. You always know when I'm lying. "...I know. I may have followed you? I just wanted to see you one last time, before you, you know, left for the big city."

"I'm not going to forget about you," you say. "If that's what you were thinking."

I bite my lip again. It wasn't what I was thinking. I really just wanted to see you one more time. I always do. Your face is one of those faces I'll never get tired of seeing. Not even when we're old and gray, and we can only eat liquid food because all our teeth fell out. I bet you'd still be hot, even if you didn't have any teeth left and your skin is old and wrinkly.

I don't know how long we're standing there, in the middle of the departure lounge. We just look at each other, taking in every detail about each other's faces, knowing it might be the last time we can look at each other like this. Suddenly I'm really glad I came here. It was what I needed, and by the look in your eyes it was also what you needed.

"I have to go," you say after a while. "My flight is supposed to leave in thirty minutes, and I haven't checked in yet." Your voice sounds almost apologetic, as if it is a bad thing you're going to follow your dreams by going to New York. It's not. I'm so proud of you for taking that step. I know it's scary, but you're strong. You can do this.

So I smile. "Okay. Do you want me to walk with you, or...?" I don't finish my sentence, knowing you'll know what I was about to say next.

"You can walk with me, I guess." You don't extent your hand, offering for me to take it. I understand. We're just friends now. Friends don't hold hands. At least not in public. Not at an airport.

While we walk to your check-in, we don't say a word. I even forget your mom is there too, until she spots the right desk. She hasn't looked at me yet. Not since you discovered me hiding behind a plant. Or maybe she has, but I just didn't notice because I was too busy staring at you. I wonder what she thinks of me. Does she think I'm a crazy-butt stalker, following her daughter around like some obsessed creep? Or does she understand how we both must be feeling – remembering her own first real break up? I don't know. She always liked me... but that doesn't mean she still does. My mom was really pissed when I told her you'd broken up with me.

I watch you while you talk to the man behind the check-in desk. He seems nice. At least he doesn't piss you off, like the woman earlier. I wonder if you had seen me then already. Maybe I hadn't been as invisible as I thought.

Your face seems almost relaxed while you hand over your suitcase. He ties something to it, and then your suitcase is gone. I watch it go, and my stomach clenches, as if it suddenly realized I was going to watch you go as well.

You take your ID and boarding pass, stuffing them away in your purse. Your mom and I follow you as you walk to the final security check. There, you stop walking and turn around slowly until you face me. There are tears in your eyes as we both realize this is the final goodbye. I can't go through the security check with you. We have to say goodbye right now.

I have tears in my eyes as well, and they come rushing down my face as you pull me into a hug.

"I'm going to miss you," you say softly. Your voice is hoarse as you speak, and it breaks my heart.

"I'll miss you, too," I nod. "So much."

"It's going to be okay, right?" you ask, but I'm not sure if you're really asking me. You're asking yourself as well. But it's going to be okay. I know it is. I need it to be. We both do.

"Of course," I whisper. "You're still my best friend."

I know it hurts you when I say that, but it's true. Right now, you're nothing more than my best friend. And I'm yours. And nothing will ever change that. Except if that something is our love. We can become girlfriends again. I know we can.

"And you're mine," you say, as if you read my mind. Then, you pull away. "I really have to go now." You wipe your eyes, careful not to ruin your make up. Even when you're crying, you're still so beautiful.

You turn to your mother, and I try to contain myself as you say your goodbyes. I have to be strong now, at least for a couple more minutes. I want your last memory of me to be a happy one, of me smiling. At least until we see each other again.

Then you're facing me again. Your lips press against mine, and I'm not even surprised. It's something that feels so right, that it can't be wrong. I try to take in everything the kiss is making me feel, knowing that it will be the last one I get in a long time. My eyes flutter closed. My hands wrap around your waist. And then it's over. You press your forehead against mine, and whisper, so softly I can barely understand you, "I love you."

I whisper it back, and then you let go of your grip on my elbows. You take a deep breath. The faintest smile spreads across your lips, and I see you mouthing, "Goodbye."

And I know it really is a good bye. Because you're Santana, and I'm Brittany, and what we have is special. Our love can conquer anything that comes on its path, and even if it will take us years to get back together, I know that in the end we will in fact get back together.

Our love was made for movie screens.