The rat-ta-tat-tat of the young girl in front of me was a refreshing sound. It made me feel a sense of comfort as I sat peacefully on the train.
Out of the window, I could see beautiful trees all hollowed out on the inside, skeletons of their past selves. Nothing could control the sadness of losing something , except perhaps the futile touch of a new lover.
As I sat reminiscing on the train on times long gone, I destroyed the relationship that I actually had.
Muhammad seemed but a distant memory in my mind. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he appeared, laughing like we do, loving me like he does.
My Love was lost.
He could not find me.
But when he did, he let family biases stand in the way of his love for me.
A woman who would rewrite history for you does not come along every day.
My Love loved me.
The Asian man was standing across from the green grocer. He apologized for sitting next to me on the train. I did not respond to him. I only bought his wares, and discovered that he was in dire straits.
I discovered a man who never lost faith in his relationship.
I discovered a man who would do anything for his wife.