This one moment I remember

There was this one moment I remember, and it’s another one of those silly moments that are pointless but somehow stays with me and brings me joy. I was sitting across from her at the table and she accidentally stepped on my shoe – I didn’t move and don’t think she noticed. But this trivial, oblivious action broke some kind of spatial barrier in me and I suddenly realized that this beautiful woman was sitting in front of me – fully, physically present. I looked at her in this new perspective as she chatted with the person to her right, and remembered – remembered feeling truly, and blissfully, content.

Love is Selfish

I've never been a selfish person. I've always conceded to people who disagreed with my opinions, if I ever voiced them. I've never wanted very much, anything more than nothing was fine by me. If I was hungry, I wouldn't beg. If I was cold, I wouldn't ask for a jacket. In no way did I want to detriment anyone else because of my own lack of preparedness.

There was only one thing I really wanted in life. 8:33am every Monday, Wednesday, and occasionally Friday morning. He would come rushing to the platform right before the train would arrive. There would be that 15 to 20 seconds where he's inside my comfort zone, breathing deep, completely oblivious to my existence. The train would arrive. We would enter through different doors, and that would be that. Nothing more, nothing less. 

I wanted his embrace. Once. That would be plenty. Enough to make this life of meekness and shadows worth it. 

8:29am, Friday morning. I hate Fridays, I get so tense wondering if he's going to come. There's a light rain outside that wets the track and makes the trains slightly late. If he comes, we'll have more time together. 

8:32am. He's here. A whole minute early. He's walking this way. I think he saw me. "Nice coat." He says, standing at a distance that couldn't be called close nor far. I look at his shoes and give him a nod of recognition. I'm flustered. 

8:33am. I lean over to look in the tunnel to see the spot of light approaching that brought us together. As I lean over, someone pushes me. I lose balance. I don't know what's going on, but I find myself on the track with my ankle shooting pain into my brain. I look to the approaching light in horror. I freeze.

All of a sudden, the white beam of death is blocked. I open my eyes to see those shoes in front of me. "Let's get you up and off the track." It's that unfamiliar but reassuring voice, pulling me out from the depths of fear that I was frozen in. He helps me to my feet. He holds my hand. I am so close to him, I can't think about anything else.

I take a step and my ankle gives. I fall. I fall, into his arms. He catches me. The train blasts its horns, but I can't hear it. I can't register it. In his arms, everything else is outside with a thick layer of glass between. His words once again slip into my ear. "Come on, we don't have much time."

His arms release me, and he starts leading me to the median where we'll be safe. But it's too late. I've tasted what I wanted, and I need more. I don't care about anything else anymore. I wish to hold him again. The train's horns blare and the brakes fill the tunnel with the screech of imminent doom, and I, realizing that this must be love, pull him back to me; back onto the tracks.

'Love is selfish' I think to myself as he falls backwards into my arms, and I hug him with all my might.

8:34am.