Passing Train
I met him by chance, and somehow, over the past six months, I found myself developed deep feelings for him.
When it all came to an end, I chose not to move on from where I stood.
He was a train I met by chance. He stopped at the station where I was waiting, as if fate had guided him there. It seemed like he was resting from exhaustion, but I did not know where he had come from or where he was going.
When I tried to step inside, every part of him felt empty and cold. Some corners were dusty and carried the scent of age. Yet somehow, it felt comfortable to me.
I sat quietly in the middle of the carriage for a moment, then stood up to walk around. The longer I explored, the more I realized that this train was different. From the outside, he looked strong and stern, but inside, he welcomed me with a quiet warmth.
He seemed to be carrying so many burdens, yet he kept them to himself until they wounded him. His engine had broken down from being ignored for far too long. And that was when it was time for him to rest at my station.
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Our meeting felt like a strange kind of fate. Everything flowed so quickly and so easily. There were no quarrels, no misunderstandings. It was gentle and light, and he brightened my days without even trying.
The more I came to know him, the more I wished to see him strong enough to move again. And when that moment finally arrived, I realized – too late – that I had already known him too deeply.
One morning, I awoke to find my station empty. He had chosen to continue his journey to some unknown destination, leaving without farewell.
His dust still clung to my clothes, and the old scent of his carriage lingered clearly on my skin. The oil from his engine still felt sticky on the palms of my hands.
I forgot that caring for him also meant being willing to see him grow strong again – and leave.
And yet, I am still here. Sometimes I look down the railway tracks, hoping he might return, to visit me once or twice. Even if he only passes by, the sounds of his horn would still be enough to make me smile.
At the very least, I did my best to let him know what it feels like to be loved with quiet warmth and to be listened to with understanding.
He deserves a gentle love, always.
