PASSING FOR NORMAL

A train trip

The train was late that day. She waited by the third sign. Somewhere in the middle of all the chaos and the noise and the utter waste of human relations, she was deep in her thoughts. So much has happened that she finds herself on the verge of another trip. The time has come to see him and that’s all she could think about for the past two weeks. The summer was gone. Another summer of her life full of dreams intercepted with still emotions and awkward situations. This summer was nothing short of a miracle. So much has changed, she kept repeating to herself. The train is finally here. She gathered her little luggage, her book and her chocolate bar. She will see him soon and all will be solved. She loved the trip from Frankfurt to Heidelberg. She looked at the ticket: Frankfurt, 17:00 p.m., destination: Heidelberg 18:00 p.m. It was the time when most people commuted back to their little life in the lost city by the river. The train would be full of young hopeful professional faces. Those sophisticated types who wear the latest craze eyeglasses and work their delicate fingers through their keyboards throughout the trip. Too busy to look around and too self-important to stop working for a second. She took the same trip but she had a different destination. She took advantage of their silly parading endeavors to peek into their lives. Reading faces has always been like reading life lines to her. Colorful lives spread like open books reflected through haircuts and expressions and nervous ticks. It had nothing to do with the features, she always chose to believe, it is about the way people wear their faces. She noticed the man sitting across from her in particular. Something about him was different. Something about the way he carried himself stood out and was hard to figure out. He didn’t look striking except in his flawless simplicity. He was fashionable in his indifference. He had an air about him. A perfectly proportionate face but that wasn’t what stopped her. It might be the way he moved his hands as he reached into his briefcase and the way he flipped through his pages. He moved in perfect harmony and a smooth physical phrasing. His movements were slow and almost hypnotizing. He had a constant calm expression short of a smile but far from a non-permissive unkind face. She had to look away. She made herself look away. Almost half the time is gone. He has to be waiting for her like he usually does. With her favorite tulips and his warm arms. She thinks about that night. The night she tormented him for the first time. She remembers how she sat down caressing her hip and carelessly looking outside that window as he became enraged. She remembered how good it felt to know that she had him where she wanted him. The man stood up. It is the second long stop. He probably went for coffee. As she looked around she couldn’t find any other interesting character to focus on. At least for this trip she will stay with that man. He’s back. Yes he’s back with a cup of espresso. I would love to make him some of my Turkish coffee she thought. She then remembered the last time she saw him. She waved goodbye by the window like she does. She always leaves knowing they will meet again soon. That time she wasn’t sure. She couldn’t forget his coldness and indifference that ripped her heart out. She clearly remembers him standing there with his wet hair wearing that shirt she likes like it was yesterday. She remembers her bitterness at that moment and how he left her on the verge of tears. The man just spilled coffee on himself. She started laughing. He then looked at her and laughed. She could now see what stopped her in his face. He fixed himself and left. She waved at him and smiled. She looks at her ticket again: Heidelberg, 18:00 p.m. destination Frankfurt. She stays still in her seet and she takes the ride back home. She knows there are no tragedies in love. There are just old and new loves.