Brian’s flight from Cleveland Hopkins International Airport was expected to arrive in Newark at 4:30 p.m. on Saturday afternoon. To be honest, I had been counting down the minutes since I left Cleveland exactly two weeks ago. While Skype and the iPhone equivalent provide the facetime needed, pun intended, when three hundred miles separate us, nothing compares to an exaggerated bear hug in person. The minute hand on the wall clock was barely reaching for 6:45 a.m. when I sprung out of bed. The sunshine emanating from the side window was blinding, its rays peeled my eyelids open while the scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air. As hard as I tried to count sheep and revert back to dreamland, drowning myself under…