He gets on every day.
He gets on, and he gets off at the same spot. A bright smile on his face that never leaves. Blue tops the black of his hair. Sometimes, but rarely, a beanie is used to tame the beast of his floof. He wears a leather jacket with plaid sleeves. A random t-shirt thrown on. His outfit usually completed with blue jeans and black vans. He looks like he stays in shape, and has some facial hair starting to grow. He acts as if he's the definition of friendly. Polite and respectful to those around him. Instead of texting or talking on his phone like everybody else, he uses it to take pictures. Photos of things as they pass by.
I've noticed that he especially loves it when a good thunderstorm comes along. He'll stare out the window, just looking up at the sky. A warm smile plastered on his face when lightning races across the sky and the sound of drums raising hell in the clouds to the beginning of a war.
And then there's me. PTSD'ed little old me. A bad childhood. Loving mom. But abusive, drunken dad. Both gone now. "Hell" School, bullied by everybody. A good relationship turned bad. She became abusive, possessive, … scary. Gone too. A bad car accident, in a coma for a month. Nobody stood by my side. Lonely house, filled with voices. Peaceful nights, choked by nightmares. Scared of spiders and terrified of storms. No friends or family to check up on me. Nothing to care about.
That's why I go unnoticed. Seemingly ignored by everybody. I trip, nobody sees if I'm ok. I fall, nobody helps me up. I sneeze, no "bless you" thrown my way. Someone bumps into me, no excuse me or sorry.
I have horrible trust issues. I shake when talked to. Cower when approached. Shiver and cringe when eyes look my way. Yet I still go out. I don't even know why anymore. I gained a lot of money from all the accidents so I don't need to get a job unless I want to do something productive. But I wouldn't last long at a job surrounded by people and noise.
I guess I'm like him, the guy with the smile on his face, the complete opposite of me. But I go for the sights. And maybe… just maybe to see the happiness on his face. The kind of face that has escaped me my whole life. For 24 years. For 24 years not a single smile or grin. Not even a giggle or a laugh.
The only question that circles my mind almost all the time is…. Why hasn't it ended yet? or better yet, Why haven't I ended it yet?...
I forgot to mention that I haven't talked for almost 5 years now.