There I was, waiting for the train all alone. The weather was so cold and foggy that I could hardly recognize the presence of other people around me, but one man. He had grey shiny hair, really weird shoes that one cannot help but admiring, and was carrying a book that had a quite interesting cover, but his eyes were not looking on the book in his hands, he was staring at me. Not at my face, not at a particular part of my body, but at my eyes, as if he could see the thing inside of me or could hear its cry for help. He and I had a long eye contact that was interrupted only by the announcement of the train’s arrival.
On the road to where I was heading, I was thinking about that man and the way he was looking at me with, until I realized he was sitting right in front me, still staring at me with those wandering eyes of his. My station was announced, I had to get off, even though I felt I could just sit there and stare back at him for years and years.
Just as I was getting off the train, I heard a voice behind my back saying: “This is not supposed to be my station, you know!” I knew it was him, because that tender voice matched his soft look. Fearing disappointment, I kept on walking, with no particular destination, as usual. Just wandering around the city, hoping to find something interesting to look at or think about. I reached a very old café, sat by the front glass, and ordered a huge cup of coffee. For watching people coming and going while smelling good coffee happens to be my hobby.
As the waitress was serving my order, I glimpsed that man heading towards me, this time I was sure he did not notice me. Yet, I waved inviting him to my table for a reason I myself cannot tell.
For a couple of hours we did not utter a word; we just sat there watching people rushing to do things that bring them misery, just because they were taught to. We tried to read their faces. We tried to guess what kind of people they were, or what they were thinking about, if they were satisfied with their lives or on the edge of committing suicide.
He and I were obviously not depressed nor thrilled for what we had. “I am married, I got three kids!” he suddenly said. For some reasons I was not surprised to hear that, and I kept doing what I was doing, not paying him the slightest attention, until he added “I keep forgetting the reason why I did that actually! I even forget their faces, the sound of their smiles, and the person I become around them.”
I could instantly tell he was the kind of people that cannot be judged, neither loved nor resented. He was lost within himself.
“There is nothing wrong with that” I comforted him.
He smiled and said while looking at me in the eyes: “I never thought people like you exist.”
“And I believe you are what I am lacking! We can meet every now and then, and enjoy a moment of silence together. Listen to each other without having to use words, and appreciate the sight of a dumpster that was put in the right place, with the right light!”
“But it is in the human nature to seek stability!” he exclaimed, with a face of someone who is dedicated to my person. A man who is more than ready to sacrifice everything he has to have my company, but I was not willing to ask him for anything at that moment, valuable or not, and I said: “What we share, what we are going to share, does not have to have a name!”
We kept drinking our coffee until it got cold, and lost its warm taste and smell. We agreed to take a walk in that cold windy weather, which we both admired, and stopped by an old library that smelled and felt like a catacomb. We bought a couple of books each, and which we decided to exchange once we finish reading, and then kept walking.
“Where are we heading?” he suddenly asked.
“How often do people know where they are going?” I answered.
“At least they think they are going somewhere.”
On the road to where I was heading, I was thinking about that man and the way he was looking at me with, until I realized he was sitting right in front me, still staring at me with those wandering eyes of his. My station was announced, I had to get off, even though I felt I could just sit there and stare back at him for years and years.
Just as I was getting off the train, I heard a voice behind my back saying: “This is not supposed to be my station, you know!” I knew it was him, because that tender voice matched his soft look. Fearing disappointment, I kept on walking, with no particular destination, as usual. Just wandering around the city, hoping to find something interesting to look at or think about. I reached a very old café, sat by the front glass, and ordered a huge cup of coffee. For watching people coming and going while smelling good coffee happens to be my hobby.
As the waitress was serving my order, I glimpsed that man heading towards me, this time I was sure he did not notice me. Yet, I waved inviting him to my table for a reason I myself cannot tell.
For a couple of hours we did not utter a word; we just sat there watching people rushing to do things that bring them misery, just because they were taught to. We tried to read their faces. We tried to guess what kind of people they were, or what they were thinking about, if they were satisfied with their lives or on the edge of committing suicide.
He and I were obviously not depressed nor thrilled for what we had. “I am married, I got three kids!” he suddenly said. For some reasons I was not surprised to hear that, and I kept doing what I was doing, not paying him the slightest attention, until he added “I keep forgetting the reason why I did that actually! I even forget their faces, the sound of their smiles, and the person I become around them.”
I could instantly tell he was the kind of people that cannot be judged, neither loved nor resented. He was lost within himself.
“There is nothing wrong with that” I comforted him.
He smiled and said while looking at me in the eyes: “I never thought people like you exist.”
“And I believe you are what I am lacking! We can meet every now and then, and enjoy a moment of silence together. Listen to each other without having to use words, and appreciate the sight of a dumpster that was put in the right place, with the right light!”
“But it is in the human nature to seek stability!” he exclaimed, with a face of someone who is dedicated to my person. A man who is more than ready to sacrifice everything he has to have my company, but I was not willing to ask him for anything at that moment, valuable or not, and I said: “What we share, what we are going to share, does not have to have a name!”
We kept drinking our coffee until it got cold, and lost its warm taste and smell. We agreed to take a walk in that cold windy weather, which we both admired, and stopped by an old library that smelled and felt like a catacomb. We bought a couple of books each, and which we decided to exchange once we finish reading, and then kept walking.
“Where are we heading?” he suddenly asked.
“How often do people know where they are going?” I answered.
“At least they think they are going somewhere.”
“I do not know which one to be pitied, is it us or them? We, who are taking the opposite direction as everybody else and who know that both directions and all paths take to no place, or them, who are ignorant to the truth that some of them are going to leave this world and some will come, but neither of them will reach the bottom of this abyss.”
“It is us I believe! Misery is our destiny and well-being is just a state of mind, if not an illusion.”
“Good company makes even misery easier.” I said while looking optimistically at his inviting lips. I felt an urge to put mine over his and swallow his warm breath. I wanted to hold his hands and keep walking with him for eternity. I felt the cold wind in every spot of my body, softly touching every little hair in my skin, and I heard a thunder inside of me; it sounded like the roar of a bear waking up of a long Sabbath. I felt almost human. And I thought to myself, was that the epic feeling and the crucial element of most works of art? I wondered what was it that I admired about him and I just met him that morning? Was it his unconventional looks? Was it the sweet words that I was sure he had none? Or was it his fortune that I could not possibly consider a quality? What was it about that man that made me so confused that I could almost swear I felt happy?
My companion was still walking in silence, soulless like a piece of wood, not aware of the war that took place in my head. Then again, the person I was becoming is what he saw in me an escape from.
I wanted to distract myself from desiring to kiss him and so I asked him: “What do you do to support that forgotten family of yours?” My question seemed to surprise him “ Are you genuinely interested or just acting according to the social conventions?” he asked me back sarcastically.
“No, I really want to know.” I lied.
“Well, I am a doctor.”
“Do you save people from agony or give them another chance to live in pain? Do you, like god, give them life or take away their salvation?”
“I give them what they want; a chance to live further if possible. A chance to make themselves better; a promise that they all neglect once their lives are again theirs.”
“Does that make you happy?”
“No! I know that by saving lives I am not a hero. It’s just something that I make a living out of.”
“You don’t have to keep doing that if you don’t like it.”
“The way people choose a bloody battle over a peaceful death still amazes me; how the thought of vanishing is more painful to them than actual pain is a question I enjoy having;”
Was I dreaming I wondered. An orgasmic cold breeze brought me back to earth. It was a time when this planet’s inhabitants surrendered to temporary death. Choosing not to exist at the best part of the day always puzzled me.
“We should probably take the train back to colorless reality.”
I knew my life would never be the same again. As we were heading towards our old lives with new eyes, I thought I would enjoy the moment and so, I let my hand reach out to his and held it, for holding somebody’s hands was something I’ve always wanted to try. His reaction was that of a typical human lover; his eyes widened and brightened with passion as he clung to mine. And we walked beautifully to the end of the so-called love.
“It is us I believe! Misery is our destiny and well-being is just a state of mind, if not an illusion.”
“Good company makes even misery easier.” I said while looking optimistically at his inviting lips. I felt an urge to put mine over his and swallow his warm breath. I wanted to hold his hands and keep walking with him for eternity. I felt the cold wind in every spot of my body, softly touching every little hair in my skin, and I heard a thunder inside of me; it sounded like the roar of a bear waking up of a long Sabbath. I felt almost human. And I thought to myself, was that the epic feeling and the crucial element of most works of art? I wondered what was it that I admired about him and I just met him that morning? Was it his unconventional looks? Was it the sweet words that I was sure he had none? Or was it his fortune that I could not possibly consider a quality? What was it about that man that made me so confused that I could almost swear I felt happy?
My companion was still walking in silence, soulless like a piece of wood, not aware of the war that took place in my head. Then again, the person I was becoming is what he saw in me an escape from.
I wanted to distract myself from desiring to kiss him and so I asked him: “What do you do to support that forgotten family of yours?” My question seemed to surprise him “ Are you genuinely interested or just acting according to the social conventions?” he asked me back sarcastically.
“No, I really want to know.” I lied.
“Well, I am a doctor.”
“Do you save people from agony or give them another chance to live in pain? Do you, like god, give them life or take away their salvation?”
“I give them what they want; a chance to live further if possible. A chance to make themselves better; a promise that they all neglect once their lives are again theirs.”
“Does that make you happy?”
“No! I know that by saving lives I am not a hero. It’s just something that I make a living out of.”
“You don’t have to keep doing that if you don’t like it.”
“The way people choose a bloody battle over a peaceful death still amazes me; how the thought of vanishing is more painful to them than actual pain is a question I enjoy having;”
Was I dreaming I wondered. An orgasmic cold breeze brought me back to earth. It was a time when this planet’s inhabitants surrendered to temporary death. Choosing not to exist at the best part of the day always puzzled me.
“We should probably take the train back to colorless reality.”
I knew my life would never be the same again. As we were heading towards our old lives with new eyes, I thought I would enjoy the moment and so, I let my hand reach out to his and held it, for holding somebody’s hands was something I’ve always wanted to try. His reaction was that of a typical human lover; his eyes widened and brightened with passion as he clung to mine. And we walked beautifully to the end of the so-called love.
