At Least We Have Good Weather: A Life of Love and Loss

Chapter 13

Weeks passed since I had given Hot Train Girl #2 the post-Valentine's Day note. Eventually I started seeing her again, and we now exchanged smiles when we saw each other. It was the highlight of my day, and somehow, my day seemed that much better when I saw her.

It must have all sounded rather silly to everyone I spoke to about her. I didn't even know her name, let alone anything of real context, but she had become part of my life. Someone I got up excited to see every morning, and went to bed sad if I didn't see.

Weeks flowed into months, but I just could not muster up the confidence to speak to her again. Each and every moment I saw her, became a pressure cooker moment, and each and every time, I struggled with the self-confidence to go up to her and start a conversation.

Then one morning, all the stars aligned perfectly.

I was running late for my morning train, and literally had to run from the parking lot to catch it before it departed from the station, and unless it's the last train home, I NEVER run for a train. So why I did it this time, I don't know.

Out of breath (and clearly out of shape), I hurled myself at the closing train doors...

Now, my morning routine consists of surveillance and strategic planning when it comes to picking a seat on the train.

Generally, I always try picking a seat close to a cute girl so I can at least stare at her reflection in the window. However, I'm more concerned about who I don't want to sit near.

I generally steer clear from first timers, who are bound to be talkative and make the same clichéd jokes about their experience. I also avoid certain regulars, who I know for a fact play their music way too loud through their earphones. Then there are the cellphone talkers, who can't judge the volume of their voice on a moving vehicle. I'm a pretty sociable guy, but strictly on my own terms.

But I digress. Catching the train in such a manner as I did on this day, didn't allow me my usual idiosyncrasies when it came to seat selection, and I literally found myself standing facing Hot Train Girl #2.

Always the gentleman, I asked her permission to sit next to her.

What began was one of the most amazing 12-minute chats I had ever had in my life. We got to know the details of one another's lives, from our jobs, to our hobbies and our thoughts on travel. It seemed like we covered every important detail that takes couples multiple dates to find out.

As we walked up the stairs, she told me that she still had my note from months ago, and it was one of the most romantic things anyone had done for her. In an instant, I became The Joker. I felt as if the giant smile I had, would now become a permanent fixture on my face.

She also said that the only reason she was talking to me was because I was the first person who actually looked her in her eyes when speaking to her, and not at her breasts. Oh yeah, being me was finally paying off.

(Besides, I've always been a legs man actually.)

I got to the office and celebrated like a schoolboy who had just hit 2nd base. And after I explained the morning's events to anyone who would listen, I was asked a very poignant question...

"What's her name!?"

Oh crap. In all the excitement, I had forgotten to ask her name.

As fortune would have it, weeks would go by before I even saw her again. And as I didn't have her name, there was no way of even locating her outside of my chance meetings that occurred on the train.

So, the only logical solution (according to my crazy romantic logic), was to increase my odds and wait for more trains. I got to the station earlier, and waited later when going home, adding at least an extra 2 hours a day to my travel time, just in the hopes of seeing her again.

Then after a while of repeating this pattern, I started to see her on a more regular basis, almost as if she had magically reappeared. One time I saw her looking drop dead beautiful in what was clearly a new outfit. Then another day when I saw her, she looked so sad, that I did not want to disturb her, thinking that the last thing she needed was some guy flirting with her. Again, I couldn't seem to form a sentence around her, and chickened out of speaking to her. Immediately regretting my decision after all this hard work I had put into finding her again, I told myself that the next time would have to be it. If I didn't speak to her after that, I had no right to complain anymore.

As fate would have it, she was waiting on the train platform the very next morning.

This was it! This was my moment!

But not just yet.

I sat in the corner seat a few rows back from her, and wrote her a killer poem while in transit.

Regrets, I've had a few...

Like seeing you look troubled yesterday and not asking "how are you?"

Regrets, this week, I've had two...

Like not telling you on Monday how amazing you look in blue...

Regrets, I've had a few...

The biggest of which, is if I don't get the courage

To give this note to you...

When we arrived at our usual destination, I timed my walk so that I would meet up with her on the escalators.

We exchanged pleasantries, and I handed her the poem, and said I had to know her name.

She smiled and answered me.

The gods had named her...Noelene.