Traingers

🚂-Memorails-🚂

☀️4:15 pm☀️

I think my sudden unintended revelation made that guy feel strained. Or he felt like he was scratching an open wound. How can I tell him that the wound was now long gone but the invisible scar was still there? Haunting me. Reminding me of my regretful choices. My foolish decisions.

I might not be a socialiser but I knew better than to make a person feel uneasy. Also, I didn't need his sympathetic reactions. Sympathy is pathetic anyway. To ease the antsy vibes enclosing us, I spoke up, "I am over it. Don't worry."

He scratched his forhead and said, "I apologise to bring those bad memories up."

"You didn't. Bad memories were always there, I just chose to hide them with the blanket of good ones." I said, my eyes tearing up, my mind playing those incidents like a tragic movie in front of my eyes.

He offered me his handkerchief and as I hesitated, he said, "I haven't used it. You can use it." I took his handkerchief and wiped the edges of my eyes.

"If you want to let it out, feel free to." He said, encouragingly.

I don't know why but I just wanted to let it all out. I wanted to. I didn't want to seem vulnerable but I have to. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout. The load kept adding up burdening me entirely, like an overweight truck.

He sensed my hesitation. Quite frankly, it was all clear on my face. Through my actions. My sweaty palms. Quick frantic hand movements. That red tinge on my cheeks. Not of shyness, but of embarrassment.

He left his seat and came to mine while I was almost having a panic attack. Suddenly, I felt his hands on my shoulder. As I kept breathing uneasily, he rubbed my back. He continued rubbing my clammy palms. But those flashbacks kept flashing in front of my eyes.

He splashed some water, from the water bottle, on my face. Fortunately, I regained my composure. He whispered something to me.

Not the water but his words, "Memories are meant to make you feel high. Don't let them drag you down," made me come back to myself.