Jason & Darius |Craving Yours| ✔

32. Misery & Buses

Jason Maddison

Clear skies and Bird songs that's what I got for my misery. Teenage girls giggling, teenage boys whistling at the girls. Adults shaking their heads in their direction before walking away. Normal. Normal life. That's all, it was a normal life. Even if my life was crumbling before everyone's eyes all I got was normal. 

"You will call?" My mother said as she fretted over my collar.  

"Yes, mum," I said, managing to roll my eyes. 

"Everyday." 

"Mum I can't learn whatever lesson I need if I call you every day," I said halting her hands and pushing them off my bags.

She was fretting over me like I was going off to boarding school. Or war. Whichever one suited a panicked frantic mother. I dipped down and hugged her. One last time. This was the journey that would change my life. 

Moving on from hang-ups I had had since I figured out what I wanted. 

"Every week." 

"Mum," I grumbled into her shoulder. 

"Every week." She repeated firmly. 

"Okay. Every week." I whispered before letting her go. 

I watched my dad fail at pretending that he wasn't watching us. His elbow rested on the open window sill of his beat-up Mercedes as eyes darted frantically around us. His grip on the car was tight and his face was pulled into a serious expression as he looked at everything around us except us. 

"Maybe you should go and say goodbye to him." My mother whispered from beside me, voice cracking.

"Yeah?" 

"You know his pride won't let him say it first." 

"Stubborn old man," I muttered as I let my bag fall at my feet. 

"Take care of mum, dad," I said smiling. 

"Don't die." He said with a small smile and a glazed over look of sadness in his left eye. 

"I won't," I whispered, staring at him with conviction. 

I cleared my throat before going back to the spot my mum stood in. I holstered up my bag and walked past her as I tried to swallow the hollow lump rising in my throat. This was it. My Darius cleanse. The start of a long-overdue journey. 

I pulled on the single strap that hung on my left shoulder and squeezed through the empty bus. The large metal trap was silent and yet full. Strangers sitting amongst strangers.  A few people were chatting with other people but none loud enough to be heard a seat or two away from them almost as if they didn't want to disturb the silence. I walked to the back of the bus and flung myself into the window seat, furthest away from anyone who looked like a talker. I pushed my bag below my seat and sunk into the uncomfortable cramped space. 

I plugged in my earphones and settled into my seat before tapping on the green triangle just above my playlist. This was it. The new start I didn't want but probably needed. A time away. A time to breath and maybe grow. A time to forget if I could. I let my forehead rest against the cool glass window as Tom Odell's true colours invaded my whole being. My eyes darted to and fro as I tried to find something to catch my attention and just before I gave up. I noticed something on the back of the seat in front of me.

A heart. A tiny heart etched into the metal railing that held the seat in place. And inside it was two random names with a plus sign between them. A childish yet painful thing. Two random strangers in love probably sat where I was and marked their love. Or a single person inscribed their love for the other unbeknownst to their partner. A cruel joke from the universe reminding me that I would never be like these people. I would never get my fairy tale love. My heart was broken and in love with the wrong person. This would never truly be me. 

My love was doomed to be a tragic sad movie where no one ever returned it. Because I loved, I loved deep, hard and steadfast. But I also loved alone. So mine was never meant to be returned. Mine was the love you look at and declare you want. The type you never wanted to return because it was too much, too fast and too hard. The type you put in a glass display and admire from afar.  

I squeezed my eyes shut trapping one lone tear that fought against my eyelash and still managed to win. Even my tears were fighting to get away from me. No surprise there. 

I squinted trying in vain to focus on the white object waving in front of me. A ... Handkerchief. Did people still walk around with those? I looked over at the owner of the handkerchief.  A tall man with a soft smile peered down at me through glasses that had clearly seen better days. His smile was small and managed to be comforting as he waved the hanky in my face, again. 

"Henry." He declared as if I had asked for his name. Then with no preamble, he sat down next to me and opened a glossy car magazine. 

"Jason," I whispered, scrunching up his unused hanky in my hand. 

And as I settled into the bus for my long ride I made a mental note to check on Dae as soon as I reached the next stop. I didn't want to leave her this early but once she started begging I take the trip I did if not for me then to reassure her that I would be fine and so would she.