And we wind down the years and the months and the weeks and the days and the hours and the minutes and the seconds until we end up where we were.
…
Where are we? We are sitting at the train station, the one that closed down years ago. That’s the state of public transportation in this country. The trains don’t seem to run anymore.
How funny: back then, you sat on the left and I sat on the right. Now, I always sit on the left, and you sit on the right. It sort of feels like looking in a mirror. I can look into my eyes across the platform, and you can look into yours.
Shit, we hardly look like ourselves. At least, not the ourselves we know now. Your hair hasn’t been that long in years. My hair isn’t even that color anymore. It’s better now, to be sure. We’re happier than we’ve ever been. It still feels nostalgic, though. Like looking into a mirror. Ha.
Look, I haven’t broken my nose yet. It’s still the same shape it used to be. My mother once broke her nose and they asked her if she wanted a nose job. She said no, of course. She was never the type to want to change her body. I would’ve said yes. But they didn’t need to ask me. It changed enough just while reforming from the break.
I would like to think that she would recognize me, but of course she wouldn’t. It’s not just the nose and the hair, too. There’s a lot more that’s changed. But I’m surprised you haven’t recognized yourself yet.
Wait, no, that’s not surprising. It was already very different seeing you after those four years that we were apart, and it’s been so long since then. We never think that we change day by day, but now we can see all those years piled up on top of each other. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?
…
Oh now, stop acting all insulted. Time doesn’t cause decay; that’s just an accident. It just causes beauty. You look so beautiful now.
…
Ah, there you go. Your train is pulling into the station. We can only see ourselves faintly through the glass, but I know that I am standing up to hug you. I can’t normally lip-read, but I can when it’s something I know I said. See you soon and I’ll miss you and I can’t wait for you to regale me of your adventures. I can’t believe I said that shit. Too stupid for the real emotions.
To be fair, I did think I would do more in those four years. That was the dumbest part, because I just sat around. Figured myself out a bit, I guess. You’re right though, that did take a while. But that story’s been played to death already.
…
Here, this is the part you need to see. This is why we’re here. You don’t know this story.
HEY, YOU. YEAH, YOU! WHY DIDN’T YOU GET ON THAT TRAIN? THAT WAS YOUR TRAIN! WE ALL HAVE TRAINS IN THIS LIFE, HONEY, AND THAT WAS YOURS! IT’S GONE AND SLIPPED YOU BY. WAIT FOR THE NEXT ONE, WON’T YOU? OH, WAIT. YOU HAVEN’T EVEN PUNCHED YOUR TICKET! WELL, NO ONE’S GONNA DO THAT FOR YOU. COME BACK WHEN YOU’RE GOOD FOR YOUR TRAIN!
…
I’m gone. Oh lord, I need to breathe.
…
Of course you’ve never seen me like that. You know I don’t like to raise my voice.
…
I remember that, you see. I remember that. I remember standing on the platform, right after I said goodbye to you and the train pulled away. The women across from us were seated there the whole time. Then the one right across from me, the one with the dark hair and the strange nose—
Oh, it’s strange, stop trying to tell me otherwise. I know it’s strange looking. That’s fine. I don’t care.
Anyway, the woman started yelling at me, all that nonsense about the trains and the ticket. Scared the shit out of me. I ran so fast, I twisted my ankle. No, no, not really. Only just about. Maybe. I don’t think I remember my reaction much anymore. But I do remember the words, most of them. They’ve been seared into my brain ever since.
As we could see, I didn’t recognize the woman back then. She was a stranger, then a danger, then gone. Ha! But, as the years piled up, I slowly grew into that woman, became her. At some point, I knew I would go back and yell those things at myself on this train platform right here, right now.
I only realized this long after I met up with you again, and then I finally understood the meaning. Deep down, though, I think I understood it after just those four years. You’ve always wondered why I came to find you, and I think that’s why. Finally punched my ticket, and all that. Figured myself out.
I wrote down the message a long time ago, filling in the words I couldn’t remember exactly with the closest guesses I could muster. Saying them now, I suppose I was perfectly right. The woman across the tracks was always me. A perfect loop. And on both sides, you were right beside me.
…
What’s that? It’s time to go back? I suppose that’s right. The train always comes perfectly on schedule.
…
Yeah, I know that’s corny. What would you say instead?
…
Ha. Yeah. That’s definitely better.
And we wind up the seconds and the minutes and the hours and the days and the weeks and the months and the years until we end up where we are.
…
I love you too.
Writer | Harry Finnegan ‘28 | hfinnegan28@amherst.edu
Editor | Aidan Cahill ‘28 | acahill28@amherst.edu