365

33 - Luggage

... Cold. Mist forms as I exhale.

Do you know those days when you can't wait for it to end, yet you also wish that it would not end because you did not manage to achieve much?
It is late in the night. I am sitting here at the bus stop, waiting a bus that doesn't want to come. My head feels like it is going to split in halves. Next to me, on the bench, is a young couple who can't separate from each other. They have been kissing, loudly, for a while. Desperate, irritated, frustrated, I turn to my only solace. And thus, I am writing these lines.

Moments like this give me a different perspective on health and time. It is too easy to take the feeling of being well for granted. Only when everything hurts, when nothing seems to work properly, we can appreciate how good it feels to be normal, to be able to think clearly. The same thing goes for time. It feels like we have all the time in the world, until we actually need all the time in the world. The thing about time, and life, is that it is like an endless treadmill that never ever stop. On this treadmill, you cannot say that you are so tired and ask for a break. Time, and thus life, does not work that way. Stop, and it will drag you down, make you fall face first, and others will run over you. We can never get back the time that we waste. We can never "make up" for the time that we lost. It just does not work that way.

...The bus came, and passed without stopping for picking up passengers. God knows why. Fifteen more minutes to wait. The couple next to me doesn't seem to mind, though. Nothing can separate them. Or their lips.

It's hard to describe how frustrated I am with this shameless couple at the moment. I blame my current condition. Maybe these people are not that bad? Why am I so frustrated? I wonder. Is it a form of jealousy, that I am cold and miserable by myself in this kind of weather, while they are warm and cosy together? Perhaps.

Isn't it nice to have someone?

Earlier today, I saw one of my fellow PhD candidates on campus, hand-in-hand, lovey dovey with a girl. Let me describe this fella in more detail to give you a better picture. He is a quiet young man, who is always deep in thought, yet very argumentative, with a solid background in mathematics. To be honest, most of the time, he does not seem to be ... human. So, you understand how strange it is to see such a person acting as a normal and happy human being. Maybe that's why he seems unfazed by the setback that we both experienced this week. Isn't it nice?

A friend, who is such a little brother to me, thought so. Many months ago, he embarked on a journey to find his companion to go through this hard time together. He emerged from the journey, alone, with scars in his heart. He is quieter, more serious, less hopeful, yet keeps walking. How did it happen? I have no idea, as he must be the brightest boy I know.
And then I realised that life does not work that way.  We cannot just find a companion to make the journey more bearable. Each of us carries luggage. We cannot expect, hope, or beg others to carry it for us, or with us. Eventually, we have to rely on ourselves, and ourselves alone. We arrived in this world by ourselves, and then we will leave it by ourselves.

... More people came to the bus station. I reckon the bus will be here soon. Among passengers, I see a very old man. I know him. He is the homeless person who always wraps himself in a corner on the alley I take everyday to go to work. He has less clothes that what I have at the moment. He is obviously cold. I wonder whether he had his dinner.

Suddenly, I realised how lucky I am. I have warm clothes. I have a house to return to. I have food waiting for me there. It is so easy to drown myself in loneliness, agony, frustration, that I usually forget how blessed I am.

... The bus came. Time to stop whining. I have a ride to continue.

And tomorrow, the Sun will rise again.