I am weak and it is hard to find the beauty in that.
The sun is shining through the windows of the bus, giving the illusion of a much warmer day than is actually reality. I sit towards the back, in the seat closest to the aisle as it gives me the best opportunity to people watch as they enter and exit the bus. Towards my stop, a young couple–a boy and girl–enter and I watch him follow her as she ducks into a seat. He places her arm around her and I chuckle at the awkwardness of teenage love. Then, I watch his hand move up to her shoulder and rub down the whole of her arm in a comforting fashion. He pulls her head to his lips and places a kiss on her temple and I avert my eyes so as not to invade their intimacy any longer. I feel my stomach unexpectedly twist and I have the urge to sob. It isn’t until I get off the bus and into the sunshine that I feel a tear fall from my eye and I have to stop and take a deep breath to keep myself from collapsing onto the cold, hard ground. My own loneliness is constantly surprising and embarrassing me. I am weak and it is hard to find the beauty in that.
