Window Seat

I leaned back on my seat. It was about time I went on another adventure. It’s always best to keep moving, after all.

I noticed familiar places the bus passed by on its journey. The old compound I grew up in, the open streets I used to play in, the school I studied at. With a smile, I shrugged and looked on.

I saw the places we’d enjoy vices with our friends, the dark corners where we’d pretend to know what love was, the little platforms where we would shout how we were free and how that freedom would be ours forever. I laughed at our youth, then sighed at how jaded I now felt.

Soon, the bus passed the old university, still imposing with its knowledge and tradition. My old places of employment came up next, and I reeled, remembering the suffocation I felt from the wealth I struggled to gather.

Then the bus stopped to let more people in. I touched the glass when I saw the church. It was where I declared that I would be there for you always, where you whispered that you would accept me forever, where we promised to love each other every day. A tear fell down my cheek.

That was when I felt your hand on mine, ever gentle and loving. I turned to see you look at me with that goofy grin of yours, always making me fall in love so easily.

Crying still, I reached out to touch you, but you disappeared, and I saw myself alone again. The bus doors closed, and it continued on its path.

I took out my handkerchief and wiped my tears away. With a deep breath, I leaned back.

It was about time I went on another adventure. It’s always best to keep moving, after all.

–
Image source: deviantart.com/fashioneyes/art/Life-in-the-bus-124314958
First written December 5, 2017.
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