The railway station
Monday afternoon, waiting for the
train in the Metro Railway Station. On Mondays I always have the feeling of unfulfilling.
All my hopes for the just past weekend seem childish now. I never get to do all I have
planned.
Nevertheless I keep hoping and dreaming every
Friday nouns. I was in a hurry waiting and waiting, all tensed for getting too late for my
class. I couldn' t stop looking, even staring to a couple by my side. They were so sad
soabsent, so silent. Avoiding each other's sight, only holding hands in such a manner like
I had the feeling that they are afraid not to loose each other, so desperately. She was
pretty tall, wearing a light blue tight lycra blouse and a mini light green skirt with a
zip half open on her right leg. I remember saying to myself that she is looking great.
Though so sad.She
seemed to be sadder than him, she seemed to hold tight, much more tight his hand. He felt
like coughing and used to cover his mouth his student bag because she wouldn't let his
hand go. He looked much more childish, though not because of the age, she seemed very
young too. They said absolutely nothing. From time to time their sights met, but instantly
one of them closed the eyes or simply look somewhere else. Once their eyes have
confronted. He let down his sight with no word. He was sad too, but more was she. Like
they have been hit by destiny, by some evidence, like there is
nothing more to be done. I didn't need to know that reason of their silence, it might have
been anything. For whatever it might have been, they are now in a crossroad, where
forgiving and understanding will be needed. I am sure something has happened. As it
happens always between lovers. Your dreams fade, your imagination about the person you
love misled you. The one you
discover has nothing to do with dreams, being a real person with faults that you'll have
to cope with, with fears and worries, with weakness and needs.
But above all you realize you're dealing with a
personality, not with a ready-made image. You realize you don't get the wanted reaction to
your thoughts, that he snores and mess all the place round, that she is not just a pretty
doll, that she hates to fix breakfast for you and so on.
The trains finally came, for both ways,
but not my train. She got in the train in front of me, he got in the other one. No words,
just a long look that I will never forget. He was looking over me to her, I saw her
putting her hand wide open on the glass of the train window, like for good bye. It
was much more then this, it was the most full of love gesture I have seen in my life. Her
train left first, carrying her sadness, her love, her tender good bye hand. He never waved
his hand back, just looked like seeing her for the very last time. His train left too,
slowly. I watched him. He seemed
rather relieved. Does he love her?
Finally my train came, a train full of
love stories, some still alive some buried long ago.stories locked deep down in every
heart, in a sycamore case, our true treasures and gifts from this life: our feelings.
