THOUGHTS ON A TRAIN

Photo: flickr.com

BY: Ilona Hesse

She says: “I’ll be waiting.”
And so I turn away, trying not to show that my heart is aching leaving her there by herself. She needs me, I think to myself. If I’m not there to take care of her, who is? But leaving without looking back just one more time I can not. She is still standing right where I left her, waving Good-bye.
The train is about to start moving, so I jump in, although I would not have regretted missing it and thus staying with her. However, other obligations literally force me not to think this way. I will see her again, runs through my mind. I will sure see her again.
As I get onto the train I look for a spot to sit down and be by myself; nobody around me. There is a seat by the window, this way giving me the opportunity to watch the landscape fly by once more before it disappears into the horizon. Sometimes I wonder how nature created all those trees and bushes, flowers and creatures, that live with us side by side. But my mind leads me to a different path of thinking; my beloved one. What might she be doing now? Is she still standing by the train station, waving Good-bye and shedding a tear? Or did she walk away home, to have a cup of coffee and reminding herself that she now will be alone once more? I don’t know, for I have no gift to vision anything.
A few minutes have passed since I left this town behind. I had packed a book and decide to read it, hoping I would be able to distract my thoughts. Into one page and my thoughts are right back there where I had them just a minute ago. The sound of the wheels rolling along the trail I don’t perceive any longer. Trees passing by with speed while a flock of birds circles along the midday sky. For some reason it now comes to my mind that I had left my notebook at her place. Will she find it and return it to me? I bet she will. Or maybe she will put it away, not remembering it is mine and then, when I ask her where it is, she won’t find it? It happened before; her putting things some place and not remembering where she once had put them. But again, I don’t know. Time will tell. As soon as I get to the place I will give her a call and ask.
I shut the book, for I can’t continue reading it. My mind is too occupied to be concentrating on hundreds of letters on a piece of paper. The book wanders back into my pocket. Although I’m not doing any physical activity, my heart bounces up and down, left to right. It’s her love showing me how much she misses me, I think. She misses me a lot. I know, because that’s what she said to me this morning: “I will miss you with every beat of my heart.” I miss her as well, and soon I can feel both of our hearts beating and bouncing to the same rhythm; a unity for which I’ve been looking for a long time, and finally found with her.
The train stops. Passengers leave, other’s get into the cabins. Wonder where each of them is going, what their story of life looks like. Is there someone else besides me, who is leaving her or his love? Maybe one of them also carries a heart broken from being away from them.
I’m in the middle of thinking as the train begins moving again, faster and faster; the sound of the rolling wheels comes back to my ears. The seat in front of me is empty. Will it stay empty until I have to get off the train? Company would we wonderful, but there is only one person, whose company I would enjoy more than anything else – but she is not with me. Yet, my mind carries her anywhere I go, any place I go to, no matter what I do.
I’m struggling to get back to the book that’s in my pocket. My hand reaches out for it. I put it on my lap and look at it, and all of a sudden, the face that’s adorning the cover turns into my lovely one’s. She’s smiling at me, saying: “We will be okay. I’m waiting for you.” I keep staring at this beautiful face of hers. Again I can feel our two hearts beating together. Buildings, nature and people, that we pass I ignore.
The train stops once more. It is the time for me to get out now. I pack my book, put on my coat and walk down the aisle. I’m putting one foot in front of the other to get down the stairs, turn around to have one last peek at the train. A smile enters my face and I think: She’ll be waiting for me.

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