The Return

It was odd to be back here. Stepping off of the train and looking around the station he remembered the day he left. He could see the bench - which was actually no longer there - where he had left his luggage by accident all those years ago. He imagined the air, heavy with moisture from the rain, that contrasted so much with the warm, bright light that floated in from the windows now.

A decade had passed since he left this place. In that time he had traveled the world. He had been through many jobs before finally discovering one he could settle at. He had met new people and made new friends. He had forgotten and he had forgiven as was his intention when he boarded the train that took him away.

Maybe forgotten wasn't the right word. As he stood, looking around, noting the foreign familiarity of the room, he knew he did not forget. He moved on. He had found a new way to live, but his past hadn't left him. He knew that now.

The sudden appearance of her soft face and dark hair (which was shorter now, he thought) was shocking an expected all at the same time. She had not forgotten either. The look in her eyes as their gazes met proved that to him.

He was shocked by how different she looked. It was as if her sophistication and obvious maturity made her taller, somehow. It made him wonder if they could fix things now. They had both grown up... But that was the point, wasn't it?

As her train arrived and she climbed aboard, giving him one last, familiar smile, he knew that this was their destiny. They had influenced each others' lives as much as they were ever meant to.

He looked forward to the street as he left the station, feeling a kind of relief he hadn't felt in ten years.

The Other Side of the story

Why can't I move? Why can't I force myself from this spot? What is the point of standing here, staring at this train? It's not even the same train that he left on, and yet, I can't leave. I feel like maybe if I stand here long enough he will come back.

We all made our mistakes, but, though I know mine were the worst, shouldn't he be able to forgive me as well? I forgave him I forgot about all the lies, all the hurtful things he said. Why have I not been forgiven? He left me here all by myself without a single clue to where he was going.

A train. Tht's all I knew. He had taken his things and boarded a train. We weren't speaking to each other, I know, but he left. I never expected him to leave. I guess I should have tried to talk to him. Instead of months of silence there could have been words. I know that now. We could have fixed this. He didn't have to leave.

I have been a stone for so long. Maybe that is why he left. I had no remorse. I showed no sorrow for the events that tore us apart. I was cold and distant toward everyone. That didn't do any good. He left on a train and now I am here watching other trains go by. Trying to hold myself together. Trying to prevent the breakdown I know is just under the surface.

I didn't realize before, but without him I am completely alone.