Last Train Home

As I watched the station stand by while the passengers boarded, I couldn't help feeling terrifically depressed. It's not as if I was really going home to anything special; as of late, she had become quite a nuisance. It was always, “Guy, put down that phone,” and, “Guy, don't you want to watch The Notebook with me?”

No, I don't want to watch The Notebook.

And I can't put my phone down, because I honestly like it more than I like her. But I feel like I'm trapped in this relationship. I don't want to be in it, but I don't really see a way for me to get out of it. I'm sure that by now she's gotten the hint, she just doesn't seem to acknowledge the fact that I don't like her. I guess she just doesn't want to think about it.

Looking out the window, I saw (of course!) a younger couple embracing. Neither of them looked happy, really, but the man was at least marginally happier than the woman. She seemed to be bawling her eyes out, and something inside of me liked that sight.

Then suddenly my phone rang. I checked the screen, even though I knew who it was gonna be, and sighed. I thought about not answering it, but I knew she'd only call a thousand more times until I finally picked it up. And I couldn't just shut the phone off, in case Chris or Jonny or Will or Phil or anyone else of importance needed to get a hold of me. Or if I just needed something to do. So, I answered, and looked back at the couple. The man was now heading toward the train, and the woman was watching him leave.

Moments later, the man was walking past me to his seat. And that was when I was struck with the most wonderful idea I've ever had.

“Guy?”

“Hey. What's up?”

“Oh, nothing, really. I was just wondering how things were going on your end? When do you think you'll be home?”

“Yeah, about that... it seems that there's some problem with the schedules or something. I'm not gonna be back tonight, I don't think.”

“Oh, no! Well, how about tomorrow?”

“Right now, tomorrow's not looking so good, either.”

“Well, that sucks. OK... I guess, just call back when you can find out more, yeah? And stay safe and all that. I miss you!”

“Yeah, I'll call back. I have to go now, so bye!”

“Bye, I miss-” But by that point, the phone was already shoved into the front pocket of my jeans, and I was already half a block down the road from the station. I had no idea where I was gonna go; all I knew was that I was not going to be taking that train home. Not now, not ever.