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Gently she cried
I never knew why
I just held her
Until her tears
Had dried
I never knew her name
She never knew mine
Our stories
Unknown to each other
But forever
Intertwined
This is an odd but true story. About 15 years ago I got on the metro riding home after working very late one evening.
The train was almost empty when I got on, but there was a woman sitting near the door with her head bowed down. I remember she was probably in her late 30’s, early 40’s, dark hair about shoulder length.
That was all I could tell because her head was bowed down. At first I thought she was sleeping, but after a stop or so, I noticed she was softly crying.
I don’t know why I did it, but I switched seats to sit next to her. She never looked up, I never saw her face. I leaned next to her and slid my arm around her shoulder.
In retrospect, I’m surprised she didn’t react violently… a giant 6’3 man in his mid twenties sitting down next to her putting his arm around her. We’re I in her shoes I think I might have.
But she didn’t. She leaned into me, head on my shoulder and cried.
I missed my stop, but knew I couldn’t move, so I just sat. For several stops she cried, but at some point she stopped. She still didn’t move, she just sat there. And so I sat there, not moving a muscle.
We never said a word until one of the stops she stood up, and muttered thank you without ever looking at me and she left the train. I didn’t respond. To this day I can’t remember why not. Whether I was stunned, afraid to break some spell, or simply lost in the moment, I still don’t know.
I could have gotten off, I still needed to switch trains to back tack, but I didn’t. I sat there almost stunned.
Some times I regret not speaking, not finding out more. But usually not. There is something almost spiritual about that event.
I still think about that night sometimes. Wondering what her story was. Wondering if she wonders what mine was.
It’s interesting how our lives intersect; sometimes violently, sometimes gently, almost imperceptibly.
“I still think about that night sometimes. Wondering what her story was. Wondering if she wonders what mine was.” Hey. I think I can relate with you.. Whenever it feels like I want to burst out my emotions to someone, I open a tab to wordpress and wite a blog. I just don’t care too much on grammars but soon as I publish my craft,.. I just..cry it all through words. 🙂 Good work dude
That is such a vivid memory of mine. In any case, I’m glad you like my writing. As for grammar, as long as your writing expresses what you feel, the rest doesn’t matter.
Wounded Memories, I can relate so much.. Thankyou for inspiring me as a writer
Reblogged this on thegirlshewas.