My bus journey
I was reminded of this story when I recalled my own bus journey.
I was very young when I got onto the bus. I was very scared cos I was very alone. There was no one to guide me what I should do or how I should react on the journey.
Then the bus made a stop. Another girl came up the bus. She was my age and she looked really pretty. She came and sat beside me. We began to chat. And chat and chat. We promised each other that we will always remain as best friends. Sometimes we would get into arguments and sometimes we would get into cold wars but ultimately we would always end up being alright in the end. We were the bestest of friends.
And then her stop came. She waved her goodbyes and skipped down the steps. And she was gone like that. She did turn her head back to give me a last look before running off but after that she never looked back. I was sad. My best friend had already forgotten me. But I moved on, and continued my bus journey.
I was alone for a while, in my thoughts, having learned a new lesson in life.
The bus made another stop again. This time a young boy came in the bus. He saw me and smile at me. I was struck at once by his goofy grin. He was tall, much taller than me and had very broad and muscular shoulders. He came over and sat beside me. We talked and talked and never seemed to run out of topic to talk. Soon he began to hold my hands and hug me. I love the way he smelled and the way he talked. And the way he kissed. It was so sweet. I thought this time it will definitely be different from my best friend. I thought this young man would sit beside me permanently.
Alas, after a while, his hug was more and more distant, his kisses no longer as sweet, his conversation less warm. I no longer find him as warm as before. After a while I find his presence irksome and began to hope that he would get off his seat and get off the bus. I got what I wished and this young man arrived at his stop and he hopped down the bus, leaving his lingering scent on his seat, and went on his journey, never even giving me a second glance.
I picked up yet another lesson in life.
Suddenly, the bus came to another stop. This time however there were a large group of people, all of them about my age. They were very loud and cheerful. I like the way they talked and the way they played. They saw me and waved at me, coming over to my seat. They crowd around me and talked to me. I enjoyed their presence a lot. I know these are the people who will never let me down and whom I can count on forever if I were to need their help.
But this group of people also had their own journey to proceed. One by one they arrived at their stops and got off the bus. They left their contacts with me, making me promise to call them should I need any help. I smiled sadly and nodded. Their presence left a bittersweet taste in my mouth. I was alone once more.
And then the bus stopped again. This time a man came up the bus. I saw him and liked the way he walked so I waved him over, asking him to come over and sit with me. He smiled and came over. We talked, we chatted, we touched, we kissed and we hugged. We never ran out of topics to talk and we help each other with our problems. However, there were always the incessant arguments that we always seem to get into. It was after a while when the man said he could not tolerate me anymore and he stomped off the bus. I was left alone wondering what exactly had happened.
For a while I just stared out of the window, looking for the man, hoping that he would look back and explained to me what went on but it was not meant to be. He never looked back.
I was left alone again.
Suddenly, the bus opened its doors and the same man came in and sat beside me. I was amazed at his return. We were at our happiest again, talking and chatting again. This time we were more tolerant of each other though. But as before, we continued to quarrel and before long, the man stomped off the bus again. This time however, I was already prepared, though funnily enough, I still felt an aching inside. It seemed like however much preparation, there would always be a kind of dull ache whenever you are left alone.
And so I was once again left alone. On my bus journey, on an empty bus, wondering who will be coming up my bus. Another young girl or a young boy or a group of cheerful people or the man who made me angry and yet happy all the time?
Perhaps it would be better if I were left alone.