In this world, there are many types of lines - straight lines, curves, wavy lines. No matter how different they seem, they all have one similarity - Intersection. Somewhere. At some point of time. However, there's a pair which bears a sad fate for they will never meet, for eternity.
I see you across the track, the opposite platform. This is the uh... I'm not sure how many days it has been since I first saw you but I feel I've seen you countless of times, so many times till you've become an irreplaceable part of my life.
We repeat our usual routine - me waving to you, and you greeting me with your faint tired smile.
Hey your smile may look weak, but I know you are happy and relieved to see me.
The train pulls into the station. This time I get on first. I see you mouth "bye" as the train starts to accelerate. I cannot help but grin.
Once again, I welcome another day. But you only play that brief part of it. As usual.
I enjoy our daily interaction. Our friendly greetings and little silent exchanges. It never fails to bring a smile to my face even though it's always short.
A fond memory remains with me - you greeting me with a worried look. I had fallen sick the day before. Did my absence shock you? Acknowledging your concern, I returned your look with a bright smile.
I used to think that I wanted to chat with you more. Afterall, you did show me care a stranger had never shown before. Following that, I started to feel a yearn. A yearn to be closer to you. To know more about you.
You know, I just needed a little more time. More time to gather up the courage to ask you out for a cup of coffee or a little date. However, I got hit by sudden news. My father got posted to Canada.
And my parents agreed to shift all of us over.
Cliche sounding isn't it?
In the end, I wasn't brave enough to walk over to the opposite platform and ask for your contact details.
We moved to Canada the summer of 2016.
Three years later, I am back. Back to this bustling town. Same time, same place.
I await your arrival.
Soon enough, and to my surprise, you do arrive. But this time, by your side, is a fresh face.
A woman.
Her hand is in yours. And the small smile you used to have is gone, replaced by a beautiful laugh.
I stand on the opposite end, blankly watching the scene unfold.
It hit me. All along you were just being polite.
I was a stranger afterall. We had no actual conversation. What was I expecting?
I turn and leave.
In this world, there are many types of lines - straight lines, curves, wavy lines. No matter how different they seem, they all have one similarity. Intersection. Somewhere. At some point of time.
However, you and I are different. We are parallel lines. No matter how much distance we close in, we are still strangers. Each having their own lives, and maybe occasionally waving hi to the other on the other side.