Then you want him to do the same for you. We linger like a train in the station waiting for him to hop on, making it easier for him to board than if we were on the run. We stay and see if he will come along for the ride of life. Even if it’s easier to just keep running like we always have – because your overthinking and hypersensitive brain couldn’t take it. We can’t stand the questions that come to mind. Will he walk away when he sees how you can get caught up in your worrying? Will he hang around when everyone is all about the next better person? Will he settle for you or stay by your side until you become better? Oh, but he does, because you proved you would do the same. Because you stayed. Because you love.
Suddenly everything changes. He moves on. He moves forward. He brings with him the whirlwind of emotions, the friendship that was built, and the things that were never said. Then you are left to stay, because you were left behind.
You’re left to revisit places and reassess things once shared. Staying makes you realize how different things are when you are alone, and when you were with him. That metal bench just becomes a place to sit than a place to meet. That bookstore does not seem to hold so much meaning in the stories it keeps anymore. That necklace seems more like a weight on your neck now than a talisman from him. That toothy grin seems more like a grimace when he sees you again. Most of all, that word “stay” does not hold promise and reassurance so much as it does suffering.
But it’s okay to admit that we stay because we’re suddenly lost and disoriented. It’s okay to admit that we aren’t okay enough to go someplace else. It’s okay to admit that we’re probably hoping he’d go back where he left off. It’s okay to dwell on things and stay a while, because no matter what happens the natural flow of life will take us to the next place. Reality will take us back into itself, and after a while we’ll be adjusted and ready to leave – he was a station, and not the road, after all.
