Fragments Gallery
You're Not Alone
You're alone at the bus stop late in the evening. Strangely enough you're not waiting for a bus. You're just waiting. Waiting and thinking. One thought leads to another so you push them away. Those thoughts are irrelevant right now. You take a deep breath and start again.
You feel the chilly air rush into your lungs as you inhale, you sigh as you exhale and watch as the mist of your breath dissipates in the cold winter air. As the mist fades your vision clears. If only it were that simple.
Around you everything is covered with a thick blanket of pure white snow. The snow that still falls is lighter than what fell before but still it adds to the crystalline carpet. The light flakes swirl in the half light, glittering and gleaming as they fall to earth. A breath of air snatches the snowflakes from their downward spiral and sends them dancing momentarily upwards through the air before allowing them to resume their slow journey to the ground. You glance briefly at the display before you return to your thoughts. You purse your lips and stare into the distance, thinking of days past, of days yet to come. Thinking about people you know.
You're worried. But why are you worried?
Every now and then you meet people, people who grow to be important to you. Over time they come to be a part of your life. They are special, unique, and irreplaceable.
The bench is cold but all you do is shift position. You can't leave, not yet. First you need an answer. Instead you readjust your hood to help shield you from the icy wind. At another time you might head back if only to get out of the cold. But not today. There is only room for one concern in your mind, and that doesn't have to do with warmth. You're worried. This year has been hard on your friends and family. You understand that. But still you wish that they could put their troubles aside and just breathe easily for a while. But they can't. Can't or won't, not that there was much distinction between the two. But that's their choice to make so of course you do nothing. Nothing but worry. If you were to voice your concerns they could just ignore your words. Or they could tell you to mind your own business. It's their life.
The far off cry of a car horn draws you from your thoughts, causes you to look around, but upon seeing nothing you relax again. Relax and return to your musings.
You wish you were better at reading people, wish that you could say that one thing that they needed to hear. You want to say that everything was going to be alright, but you can’t say it with certainty because you don’t know. All you can do is hope that things will turn out well. There is so much that you wish you could say, but so little that you can. Quite often all you can do is tell them that they're not alone. You're there for them.
You'll always be there for them.