friday the 15th of april
i am sad as i always on the way home, not because i hate home, just in that bittersweet, dreary sense of sad, where songs seem extra emotional. i watch as families, couples, friends, just go about their lives, unaware of me perched, observing. i watch people hug, kiss, cry as they say goodbye, run frantically to catch trains. i root for these strangers. not because it helps me in any way. just because it’s nice to see people win. perhaps this is what nostalgia feels like.
being surrounded by people as at university is an oxymoronic paradise. the sweet, sweet, messy entanglement of students’ lives, people you do and do not like, constant noise, it becomes all too normal. then, when the lights are off and you’re in your childhood bedroom and everyone went to bed at 10pm, there is all too suddenly a thick, overbearing amount of time to be left swirling in your own silence.
i watch one of the train conductors running up and down the platform, and i wonder about him. i wonder if his dad died recently, or if he’s going through a breakup, or if his wife is pregnant, or if he’s going to hand in his notice on tuesday. no matter what is going on in his life, he is going to be running up and down that platform regardless. i try to keep this in mind when i’m approaching people.
everyone’s in their easter clothes, looking joyous and excited and tipsy, and my thoughts turn to wine and dancing. how can i be sad when in just three hours i will be feeling alive, listening to utterly terrible music, and drinking even worse treble vodka crans on the dancefloor of a ratty club with my childhood friends. the fact that we can make fun even there shows its entirely about company and never, ever about location.
i think about the soft touch of my dog’s ears and the smell of my mam’s detergent and the metro and the tyne bridge, and my shoulders, which i didn’t know i was tensing, relax. i refuse to be stressed and unsettled entering the city where i always be most at home.
Reese On Record 
Leave a comment