You were there on the train; the train was churning towards its destination; I barely even knew where.
My friend was there. She took care. Took care of everything and I was free to experience love everywhere. I saw your face, I focussed on your lips, sensual, soft, mouldable; wanted every glance I got; your eyes gave not just glances but instead burned into mine. They said, you’re mine. I was yours immediately; I had a fire in my gut and in my shoulders, I tingled all over; it was the beginning and the end, for me. You said, later, Will you marry me. It was the end in that moment. The minute you said that, I knew I’d never be yours…
We’d never even kiss. God how I loved you, loved you, you were mine in my mind; I was desperate to have you, but only in my mind… I was terrified of commitment. The moment you said “Will you marry me…” that was the end. No amount of ridiculous beauty would erase it. I guess I knew you didn’t mean it.
My friend was jealous, I think. She liked you and she was much more beautiful, keenly intelligent; but you were after something else; I don’t know what. The minute you learned I was leaving Athens you were gone, away with another girl, her hair longer, blonder, wavier than mine. I stared sadly at your back. Knew I might never come back.
Later I’d be glad.
For both me, and my friend.
This is another excerpt from an imaginary memoir/novella called “On the Train” which I hope to one day “have written.”
Nadine inhales & exhales words & images from current vantage point in Zone of Emptiness, France. If you wish to contribute and/or show appreciation, please recommend/like and/or comment — or write an email via the contact page. Feedback welcome. Thank you for reading. 🖤
2018-12-08: Edited a bit (in the sober light of day) to improve truth.