I had spent nights bleeding into days thinking about her; agonising over her. The moment life took her from me, the second in which her eyes focused on me. Is it wrong to think so deeply about something I never had, something I never could? I remember her red hair so clearly; a shining gloss of beauty. ‘Urban weather, I think they call it’, she laughed while holding her delicate hand out to catch the non-falling rain; the breeze lifting up strands of her hair to dance gracefully over her face. Soft cheeks pinked by the crisp air. Entwining strands through her finger tips she played effortlessly with them to move them from her vision while her eyes fixed upon my face. If only there wasn’t a platform that separated us. That day was so chilly. We sat opposites within the crowded station. Commotion surrounded us yet I was still able to hear her sweet voice that seemed to block out any unwanted interaction from passers by. Trains approaching the station, she stepped up towards the edge of the platform. Slipping her head down with a slight grin, a gracious wave that seemed to go unnoticed by anyone but me. Eyes widen as the train took her. Taking her to a place I could never touch her. How much I wanted to touch her. Slipping under the tracks she rested in an agony of heartbreak that she never showed. Why I moved back, why I stared and then left calmly and quietly walking out of the station was beyond me. How I was so peaceful.
Train stations connect so many people, but feel seem so lonely.