The departure
I was sitting at the station, waiting for the subway… but honestly, I think I was waiting for something else.
People were rushing past me, staring at their phones, taking care of business, living lives that actually seemed to have a direction. It felt like everyone knew exactly where they were going… except me.
I wished I was like that.
I wished I were so caught up in anything that there wouldn’t be any room left to feel.
But there was.
There always was.
My hands were shaking a little, almost invisible to anyone watching.
But I felt it.
I felt everything.
I gripped the handle of my suitcase tighter than I needed to. As if that was the only thing keeping me together. As if, if I let go, something inside me would fall apart.
Funny thing is, it had been packed for days. Every piece of clothing folded with care, every item picked as if I was dead sure of what I was doing. But now, standing still at that station… I wasn't sure about anything anymore.
Not about the destination. Not about the choice. Not about myself.
I looked around once more—nobody knew me. Nobody had a clue what I was doing. And, for a split second, I wondered if anyone would even miss me.
The wind signaled the subway’s arrival before it even showed up. That distant rumble growing louder… inevitable.
My heart raced. It was now or never.
Or maybe not.
The subway stopped right in front of me, the doors slid open, and for a second, I thought about just staying
nice start