clark and lake

I waited nearly an hour for the Blue Line tonight per usual and witnessed a nasty fight between a young couple. She was standing next to me, holding back sobs and when he would approach her she would softly mutter "I just can't take feeling like this anymore."

It hit me hard--I forgot how frustrating it is to feel that way. I tried to keep reading my book...and while doing so came across this,

"Farewells can be shattering, but returns are surely worse. Solid flesh can never live up to the bright shadow cast by its absence. Time and distance blur the edges; then suddenly the beloved has arrived, and it's noon with its merciless light, and every spot and pore and wrinkle and bristle stands clear."

For fucks sake, Margaret Atwood, amazing.

Maybe it's because it hits so close to home for me...but watching that girl cry in her cute dress (they were obviously out on a fancy-ish date, but she was carrying a mismatched tote bag and reminded me of myself when I try to look fancy--just a little bit off) made me remember all the things that I had long forgotten.

All the nights I was that girl in a dress on a train or elsewhere, usually drunk and sobbing. That was not happiness but it's so easy to forget these things when you are alone. It's so easy to remember the good stuff...the comfortable stuff. But tonight my stomach turned and I felt so lucky to not be that girl. I felt so lucky that I could read my book in silence...come home, put on stupid pajamas and lurk around on the internet while my cats take turns standing in front of my computer screen. Maybe love is worth crying on the train over, but in my recent past I have not found anyone that would be able to ignite that sort of reaction in me and I'm not quite sure I am ready to.

I much prefer this, most of the time.