"Paralysis"
He taps me on my shoulder.
"When's your stop?"
I answer casually; it's become routine.
"Just this next one."
We both wait in silence as the train pulls into my station.
"Have you ever been beyond this stop?"
I turn and blink at him. I want to say yes. But I do not lie.
"…No. I've never been."
He answers me immediately; looking up at me with wise eyes, like he's been waiting; like he knows.
"But you've always wanted to be."
I feel my teeth sink into my bottom lip; a nervous habit. For a minute I am faced with a possible confession. My brows knit together and I squint slightly. He's knows I'm conflicted, I can see it on his face. He knows if I went I would never come back. I would be leaving behind everything I've come to know, everything I hold dear. But he also knows how much I will regret not taking this chance. He knows if I don't take it, it will haunt me for the rest of my miserable life. He knows how hard it is for me to let go.
The train whistles, announcing its departure and I panic. I say the first words that come to my mouth.
"I really need to go. I'm already late."
He looks disappointed. He places a hand on my shoulder and looks directly into my eyes. He wants me to go. It's hard for him to let go as well.
"You don't need to go. You have a choice. Come. See how far the track goes."
I look out the corners of my eyes. I'm looking for a solution.
"Are you coming back?"
He answers slow but firm. It is finality. It cannot be changed.
"No …not this time."
The train whistles its second warning and I am stuck between a reality- truth- something I've always stood for, and a fantasy; a childhood memory, my personal Never-Land. And my Peter Pan is standing here before me, granting me a wish I was too afraid to ask for. One of my feet is on the platform, the other is still on the train. I'm stuck; a deer caught in the headlights. I am frozen with nothing to do. Images of my family and my friends flood my head; and shining through them like a beacon of light through a fog is him, looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to make my choice.
The train doors close. I pull my foot away.
I had a choice.
I never made it.