2AM Bus Ride
I remember that it hurt, her leaving; it hurt. But it wasn't a bad hurt. It felt like when you get a really good idea, but at the time of its arrival, you don't have the resources to carry it out, but later you do, but not the opportunity. I had the resources to try to find her. To look. But I didn't have the opportunity. So I sat alone in the mostly silent Quik Way Enterprise bus route to downtown and I thought about it. I thought about why I didn't just follow her. Follow her. It was so damn easy. I could've. But I didn't. And I remembered what she was wearing last night, before she left. And how her hair fell just right across her face; lit up perfectly by the Christmas lights. I remember how she looked amazing that night and how beautiful she was. And the tattoo of a geometric rabbit head she got on her ankle. It'd still be raw about now. Hell, she only got it about 9 hours ago. And as I was looking through she dirty window of the bus, leaning my head against the glass, I saw a girl sitting on the sidewalk, with her back up against a building wall, and her head in her knees. And I saw it, right below her high-water skinny jeans. I saw it--damnit I saw it. The rabbit. "Hey.." I whispered to myself, in that I haven't recognized what that is yet voice. "Hey!" I said quite a bit louder. "HEY, STOP THE BUS!" I yelled, grabbing my backpack and running toward the front of the bus. I slammed into the door of the bus in my way out, nearly breaking the damned thing. I was breathing heavily, and a feeling of sadness, terrible sadness, rushed over me. And as I disrupted traffic for this girl, as I broke the law for this girl, as I nearly got hit by at least a quarter dozen cars for this girl, passing the 5-lane highway, I realized, as if oblivious to it before, I am terribly, deeply, and thoroughly, in love with this girl.
