Stiffly sitting on the train, I look around at the other passengers seeking amusement. Only to find I am surrounded by couples folded into each other like origami papers. Their fingers laced, her legs draped over him, his face buried in her hair. They way they all half-smile in state of contentedness, curled into one another.
Suddenly, the straight length of my fingers has a stark contrast to the curved blue arcs pattern of the seats. I try to ignore this by looking out the window but the night is a pitch-black reflection of the couples around me, streaked with dashes of rain. I close my eyes to suppress the downpour building in my emerald orbs.
My heart somersaults back, back, back. Til I am 18,324 kilometers away, seated on the green-shaded nameless-shape pattern of the London overground; resting my fingers on your thigh, your hand clasped over mine, our sides pressed firmly together. There would no room left for Jesus, now that our inhibitions had been chased away by coded cocktails. In these moments when inhibition left you when fear of the future was absent, I knew loved me. Never in words but always in action, the way to pressed yourself to me, the way your fingers always found my knee, the way you looked at me. You made me feel as if no one else on that train existed. The only two pieces of this puzzle.
My heart skips a beat. Skips to the moment I was struck by gravity for the second time. The confusion in your eyes when I clarified, "Where are you right now?"
"I'm here. With you." the precision in your answer told me in that moment you had chosen me. Gravity had pulled me here for this moment, just like the first time. These hands were meant to hold, these lips meant to lock. Hearts aligned in perfect symmetry.
I can't stay in this moment any longer. It hurts. We have outgrown it. My heart scrambles back to catch up to my body. The emerald of my eyes fogs over but the downpour never comes. The couples were gone, their origami shapes no longer crowding the seats. The train is nearly empty. I become aware of just how much space I occupy; my limbs spilling across a second seat. As stand to exit the train, my boots echo through the cylindrical capsule of the train. I exit the train and am absorbed by the shapeless pitch-black of night.