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First Love [Harbouring Hopes] |
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Today on the train there was a boy who was sitting, we were returning from our excursion to see a new movie...though the movie was not very good the candy was. I'll do just about anything for candy. However we were heading home in rush hour traffic, so I expected that I would be standing. I'm pretty capable now when it comes to handling standing on trains, and with the traction in my shoes there is very little reason to worry about. He stood up when he saw me though, and if there was hesitance in his getting up it was purely because I was standing in his way. At first I thought that this man must realize his stop is the next one and is simply getting ready. So I took the seat with silent gratitude, doubted I would really get a chance to thank him (and I was right). However he did not get off at the next stop, in fact he did not get off until three or four stops later. This caused a mixture of confusion and curiosity to arise inside of me....why had this person so generously given their seat to me.
I remember looking into his eyes twice, once when he was getting up and then once again when I was sitting. There was a quietness to his eyes that's impossible to describe. There was a small panicked look in the back of them, though I suspect that had very little to do with our interaction and more to do with the folder he was carrying. He was likely a student, or an intern in a business, though I will never likely know. I remember the quietness well though as I focused myself completely on what I could pick up from him and I too could feel the stillness...and the mild panic. I found I could immerse myself completely in him just as I can so many others.
Sometimes I wonder if I make up what it is I feel....if this gift is pretend and that "they" are correct when they say 'magic' simply is not real. I still do not know whether to believe this is a gift or curse....or simply both. I suspect the latter...and there are many times I'm grateful for its existence. Such as on the train.
Lately I have not been able to know my own heart, sometimes I think it enjoys hiding itself far from me. Or perhaps because I'm such a hopeless romantic it has no more interest in dealing with me. No one could blame it....who would want to be hurt over and over again by the one sworn to keep you safe and bring you joy? Sitting there, with that quiet boy standing next to me I could not help but wonder if he found the way I looked attractive. However I did not go digging, I wanted that quiet connection that I am allowed to have with others....connections and interactions that make little rational sense, but emotionally are everything.
I doubt he felt me. And that's okay too. Connections are not one way streets, and yet...
Wandering through the streets of Boston I always worried would be torturous to my health. So many emotions crammed into such a small place, so many people with their motivations and agendas...good, bad, apathetic, indifference, hatred, love, confusion, fear....loneliness...
I find whenever I go into Boston or Cambridge that I lose myself in the ebb and flow of the emotions. It makes sense that I would be afraid that this would be bad. In high school this level of emotional interaction that flooded me caused me to sick, and acting outside of myself. I found that the only way to cope with this, to keep from looking absolutely insane was to close down. Lock up everything I felt and reject the world around me. I find I still do that quite a bit. In Boston however I don't have to reject it or lock it all down...there's far to much to even hope to be doing stuff like that. I suppose I still lock down in some fashion. I don't know how to cope with that world around me. But inside of Boston I can let the world wash over me....and I can lose myself inside of those emotions, whatever they may be.
Perhaps in that moment I am equally as alive as I've ever wanted to be...or perhaps I was as dead as I fear I can become.
I donno...silly ramblings....
 Evelie Harte · Fri Jul 09, 2010 @ 01:49am · 0 Comments |
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