I am at the second leg of my journey as I cast one tired foot infront of another and board the bus.
The woman selling oranges isn’t bellowing her usual tune:
As well as that, the sky is still a waning blue-I’ve made good time to get home early today, I thought to myself.
This bus looked comfortable so my knees won’t suffer. I nudge through the compartmental space to find a decent seat…
…as I hesitate to sit next to that man, opting instead to sit right behind him
…just before I sit down…
The woman sitting adjacently looks up & our eyes lock and a mere moment of eons passes.
Maybe it was fear in her eyes. A natural reaction to the unknown.
Or perhaps it was a cosmic, space and time bending desire to be seen.
Perhaps she was you. That’s what I thought anyway. I thought you had seen me and ignored me because of your “new man”.
But as the lighting changed, I saw that she didn’t have the sharpness of your features and I didn’t hear your soft voice escape on her lips
Regardless, whether it was you or she, that mere moment sent my consciousness furling into the folds of the past. A place where you and I were once close.
Where our flesh and minds mingled in kiddy delight.
So my friends, tell Andrew that everytime I look at his sister, she reminds me of the ache and pain that comes with the loss of innocence:
Of time spent wrongly & even if spent the rightly, marred by the nagging capitalistic sensation of opportunity cost.
She reminds me of the steps I couldn’t take but should’ve.
She reminds me of all the women I never kissed but could have.
She makes me think of basketball at Lizzy’s and fresh tomatoes in my salad.
She reminds me of all my regrets in life.
And without say, she is still the most beautiful one.