The Journey (looking for someone to join me on it)

Started by Ardant, June 23, 2010, 11:39:29 AM

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Ardant

The rain poured down fiercely as John ran to the train, it was the only blessing of the day as it prevented the people he passed seeing his tears.
Slumping down in the first empty chair in the carriage it took ever fiber of his being from stopping him exploding, the scene just kept playing out in his head. No matter how tightly he closed his eyes it wouldn't stop.
To think the day had started out with so much promise, for Abby was waiting to meet him. That distant girl who by chance he'd met on Friendface.
He had spoken with her online for hours, she'd "lol'd" at everything he said, made him feel better when the days were hard and made him excited in ways he hadn't ever been.
You should have known then John, no one finds you that funny.
The though hit him hard, but it was true. He'd always been the other guy, the guy that people spoke to before the really funny people showed up, the guy that had the "great personality" or had "nice eyes".
How bad is it when girls see you and all the can compliment you on is eyes and something that barely shows at all.
His best friend never had this issue, if John was the other guy then Mike was the man. He didn't even have to try.
I can't hate my best friend just because I suck...
More times than he could count girls, girls that he really liked had became his friend just to know more about Mike.

Abby was going to change all that. Her pictures had looked amazing, and the things she's said they would do together made his head spin. Even when her webcam was broken John had done the things she wanted, so sure that it was all building to something incredible.

So, for a 5 hour train journey costing near a hundred pounds to end with him finding an inflatable doll taped to a post with the name "Abby" in marker on its head was too much. The picture of his semi naked body that had been printed on mass and strewn on the floor around it did little to help the surreality of the situation, but even with all that he could of held it together. Until the laughter started.
A group across the street began to howl at him like a pack of animals, flashes of camera phones and cries of "Saddo" and "Loser" cut through his soul. At 23 he shouldn't of had to run, but what else could he do.

The train lurched into motion, the sounds of people talking a few seats away broke John's reverie.
They were a couple, laughing and kissing, snuggling together. The raining day suddenly erupted into a storm, the rolling thunder in the sky making the pair pull each other closer.

Sometimes it feels like the world just hates me
John took a deep sigh. When he finally got home his friends would ask what happened, and why he was coming home again so quickly, what had happened to his and Abby's weekend plans he'd struggled to not mention in every other breath. Those were not going to be fun conversations, and they would be all the worse if the pictures they had got posted on Friendface before he got home.
Staring out, he caught his own reflection in the window.
I'm not ugly am I ? I work out, I keep clean... what did I do to deserve this?

A bolt of lightning tore through the clouds, illuminating everything in a bright white hue.
The train began to slow, coming to a halt at a small countryside station.
The couple headed to the door, so tightly interwoven they looked bound together.

As they stepped out another figure entered the carriage.





Somewhere out there is the future, that I once thought had passed me by.

Gwindolyn

She was weighed down with a load of books.  Her long black hair straggly down her back as it dripped.  She shivered with the cool of being underdressed in the rain.  Her coat soaked over her arm.  It looks like it was just pulled off the books to check them.  The mere sound of a day gone wrong coming through in her breathing.  She looks about for a seat.  She prefers to have a seat to herself and one with her books.  She sees none of that sort.  Just those with people sitting next to them here and there.  She narrows down her options to those that do not look like they are going to be all sunshine and rainbows on her.  Today was not a day for tales of puppydogs or babies.  She sees a male, around her age, sitting alone.  He did not look like he was going to regale her with funny anectdotes or the bright side of anything.  Perfect.  If she were lucky, she might get some studying done.  She walks to the seat and fumbles to seat herself with all these books.  She didn't know what was worse, the day she left behind or the day she is traveling towards.  The dread was clear in her almost amber eyes as she finally settles to a stillness of sorts.
I've become a truck driver.  This means my connection and time are not scheduled.  I cannot guarantee a post every night, and sometimes I can do multiple posts in a single time span.  For those of you who can handle time gaps between posts, I am welcoming new stories.  I want to write in the threads.  I want an audience for my writing and our story.

I am Gwindolyn            
Pressing Gwindolyn's buttons

Ardant

Johns brain slowed the entire world down.
It was like one of those scenes from a cheesy love film. The women walked in, looked around, and moved straight towards him.
Her long black hair perfectly framed her face, with eyes that he struggled to look away from.
Granted, she barely looked at him, and the train was pretty full, but if she'd really wanted to sit somewhere else John was sure she could have.
Calm down John, just don't do anything and nothing can go wrong
He unconciously gulped back a breath, hoping the redness around his eyes wasn't as obvious as it felt.


"Hi, thats a lot of books... want me to help you with those ?.

It was one of those terrible moments when Johns body seemed more ready to act than his brain, reaching forward with far to much haste his hand slipped past the damp books and touched ever so slightly on her chest. His follow up was to pull his arm back, knocking the books everywhere.

"Damn it.. I'm sorry ! please sit down. You can have my seat, I'll pick these up for you, nothing to worry about, they all look fine..."

He really wanted to stop talking, but was worried that when he did she'd start to move away.
Not that he would blame her,this was simply another classic "john" moment playing out for the amusement of the universe.






Somewhere out there is the future, that I once thought had passed me by.

Gwindolyn

She adjusts the coat as she sits down, knocking the books a bit.  She finally gets settled when the man turns his head.  His eyes are slightly red and puffy now that she is closer, but so are hers so she will not ask.  A cheesy pick up line.  She starts to roll her eyes when she feels a hand on her.  She jumps and he pulls back and the books fall from her hands. 

"Oh man!  What more can go wrong?!" 

The man starts trying to help and things just keep escaping his hands, making a bigger mess than before.  She finally takes him by the shoulders.  She looks deep into his eyes so that he really hears her.  Her eyes an almost amber and the whites around them are reddish with tears shed before.  Her hair dripping down her wet body.  She shivers slightly.  Still her voice is steady and strong.  "Slow down.  I'm fine.  This seat will do.  Thank you."  There is exasperation in her voice but not unkindness.  She sounds tired.  She takes a moment to put her wet coat on to see if that helps her warm up at all, but a wet coat covering what bit of her was almost dry only took more of her natural heat and she begins to shake more as she tries to gather her books.
I've become a truck driver.  This means my connection and time are not scheduled.  I cannot guarantee a post every night, and sometimes I can do multiple posts in a single time span.  For those of you who can handle time gaps between posts, I am welcoming new stories.  I want to write in the threads.  I want an audience for my writing and our story.

I am Gwindolyn            
Pressing Gwindolyn's buttons

Ardant

"Sorry, its been one for those days... the one you wished you never got up for, I'm John.. excuse my crazy hands they mean no harm !"
Up this close John could see her eyes had that hint of red much like his own, and while the saying misery loves company floated through his mind he didn't have any desire to say it. The fact that this near to her, even hidden under damp clothing and bedraggled hair she was beautiful.

The amount of water dripping from her clearly illustrated she'd been caught out in the worst of it, and John could see she was shaking.
"Please don't take this the wrong way, but I think you should take my coat, your kinda soaked, and since the next stop isn't for a while there's no point making it worse than it needs to be"

It felt good just to be able to offer to help, and just sitting next to her made the day feel ever so slightly better.
Somewhere out there is the future, that I once thought had passed me by.

Gwindolyn

She starts out to dismiss him after all that craziness, but finally, he seemed to settle some.  Her books still strewn on the floor as she had opted for her coat instead of gathering them when she finished calming him.  "don't worry about it," she half mutters and half says.  "This day can't possibly get worse anyways," she mutters completely this time.  She barely took time to notice his eyes were red too, so absorbed in her worries.  She didn't even catch his color of eyes.

Then the coat is offered.  She looks up into his face in a different way this time.  It wasn't about calming the nervous or clearing her path to quiet, it was about seeing him.  The one kind enough to reach out and notice a need.  She tilts her head to see if he had an angle in offering the coat.  His face seems sincere to her.  She manages a half smile, any other day it would have been a fuller smile but today is not any other day.  The half smile will have to do.   She does not really answer so much as takes her own coat off and hangs it from the hook to hopefully dry some during their journey.  How long was this train ride anyway?  She forgot to ask and hasn't taken this trip by train before.  She makes a mental chastisement for her lack of attention to such details as she reaches out her hand for his coat.  Her mother's teachings reach from her childhood to smack her upside the head and she remembers to say "Thank you, I appreciate this."  As she accepts his coat. 

His coat, straight from his body, is still warm.  Instantly, she feels better.  The warmth drying her bare flesh and taking some of the wetness of her shirt.  It was thin, but it is amazing how a thin shirt can seem to stay wet when one is cold.  She revels in the dry warmth for a moment until someone passes by and kicks one of her books.  They say a few unkind words and pass.  She smirks to their back.  Anger and pain enough in her heart, she is not as kind to them as she would be on other days.  She turns to her books and gathers them.  She is grateful he does not help this time as sometimes it is better to do something yourself.  Once the books are safely in hand again, she retakes her seat.

Train seats are not the most luxurious spaces in life.  They are decently comfortable for mass transit, though.  She settles back into the chair and fidgets to get the right spot.  It takes a moment and she hits him lightly with an elbow here and an fore arm there and her hand on against the side of his knee before she gets herself situated.  She goes to put her arm on the shared armrest without thought.  His arm is already there.  She pulls back quickly with a quick apology and a blush.  Her cheeks meshing with her eyes, red and puffy.  'this day can't possibly get worst, can it?,' she thinks as she berates herself for the armrest.
I've become a truck driver.  This means my connection and time are not scheduled.  I cannot guarantee a post every night, and sometimes I can do multiple posts in a single time span.  For those of you who can handle time gaps between posts, I am welcoming new stories.  I want to write in the threads.  I want an audience for my writing and our story.

I am Gwindolyn            
Pressing Gwindolyn's buttons

Ardant

Johns heart sped up a little as she accepted his coat, as she removed her own John tried not to look to intently, but it was difficult. Her body was as perfect as her face. John squirmed a little in his chair, but felt the entire train carriage warm as she smiled at him.
"You've had a bad day, did you ever pick the right place to sit ! Welcome to the bad day club, trust me when I say your in good company here.....umm..."
He let out a small laugh as he said it, he didn't mean to, but the sheer craziness of the day meant he had to release some form of emotion, he was about to talk to someone he barely knew about this horrible day and hadn't even asked her name.
As he spoke she seemed to be settling into her chair, making contact with him more time than he could count. John never thought he'd meet anyone that was as crazy with their arms as he was. Not that he was complaining, not at all.
"Let me move a little, you look like you need a bit more space to relax". John meant the comment in the nicest way, but knew that he wanted her to stretch out a little.
For all the pictures and "thoughts" he had concerning Abby this woman made her seem like a faded photo.
Somewhere out there is the future, that I once thought had passed me by.

Gwindolyn

She wasn't the smallest build in the world.  She was not fat by any means either.  She was just healthy.  She is active, that much was obvious with her toned arms and lean legs, but her flesh was rounded enough to speak of lazy days and good food as well.  She was not a fragile bird to broken by the wind.  Her curves were more pronounced for it.  She was not a flat board with a bump here and a bump there like many women these days.  She had places a hand would fall to naturally, or a head would feel comfortable cradling into. So the settling did take the space and contact was made, much to her embarrassment.  She almost missed his comment about bad days in the process.  She did not respond to it as her apology took place about then.  Then the arm rest is offered.

She looks up to him, her amber eyes almost confused.  She shakes her head and a strand of dripping black hair falls over her face.  "No, no, thank you.  You have been quite kind with your coat, I could not hog the space as well."  She keeps her arm pressed to the books.  Her arm covers the bindings that display the titles and the top book is backside up.  There is no clue to what they are for him to see.  She does begin to feel the weight of them though.  She looks above them for an overhead compartment and around them for perhaps an empty seat in front of them.  It would be nice to not have the whole pile on her lap the full trip.
I've become a truck driver.  This means my connection and time are not scheduled.  I cannot guarantee a post every night, and sometimes I can do multiple posts in a single time span.  For those of you who can handle time gaps between posts, I am welcoming new stories.  I want to write in the threads.  I want an audience for my writing and our story.

I am Gwindolyn            
Pressing Gwindolyn's buttons

Ardant

"Really, its fine, I wouldn't have offered if not, and the books... I don't think they are going to run away if you put them down".
John dragged his damp back pack off the small pull down chair that swung straight back up to the carriage wall when the weight was removed. He placed his hand on it firmly, keeping it flat to let her put the pile down.
"And you avoided telling me your name... I can take a hint, eventually..."
It bothered him that he wanted her to smile again. He outstretched his right arm, offering it as a means to help move the books.
"I'll make you the best deal you'll get all day, you put the books down, take the arm rest and I'll tell you a story that's going to make anything else you've been through seem pleasent"
He found himself smiling as he said it. It wasn't as though he had anything to lose from sharing with a stranger.
Somewhere out there is the future, that I once thought had passed me by.

Gwindolyn

She laughs at his joke about a hint, slightly.  She was so busy in her world that she had missed his name and cue for her own.  "I'm Gwin," She offers as she puts her books on the spot her offered.  She hesitates a moment, she does not want to admit her lack of attention to him but sees no way out of it.  "I am sorry, but I have a lot on my mind.  I must admit I missed your name."  Her cheeks turn a bit darker.  She shifts uncomfortably.  More of her hair falls forward.  She shoves it ungracefully away from her almost olive colored skin.  The way her black hair plays against her skin is most complimentary.  She also loves the way her amber eyes pop against her complection, ok that is at least when she is not so occupied with other worries.

She really didn't want his story, but he has been so kind that she really saw no polite way to refuse.  Besides that, she had no clue how long this ride was.  It would be a horribly longer one if the person she had to sit next to was unpleasant.  She just hopes that he is not about to get into how wonderful life is and how she needs to smile because it shines through her eyes.  That is the last thing she wants, she would almost prefer to sit next to someone angry at her for the trip.  Still, she politely says "What is your story?"  with curiosity mixed into her voice.  She had always received comments about how soothing her voice was, how sensual its tones could be.  She hoped he would not do this to her today.  She wanted no compliments today. 

Once her books were safely piled, she sat back, but rested her hands in her lap, careful to only rest the tip of her elbow on the rests, giving him the front half of the armrest, more than enough for his arm to rest comfortably - even if it did mean contact with a complete stranger.  She took a deep breath and swallowed that.  Life is a series of compramises, she tells herself again and looks to his face as she expects the story to start.
I've become a truck driver.  This means my connection and time are not scheduled.  I cannot guarantee a post every night, and sometimes I can do multiple posts in a single time span.  For those of you who can handle time gaps between posts, I am welcoming new stories.  I want to write in the threads.  I want an audience for my writing and our story.

I am Gwindolyn            
Pressing Gwindolyn's buttons

Ardant

"It's John, nice to meet you Gwin".
He took a deep breath, happy that at the very least she had settled somewhat.
"So today I was going to meet a girl called Abby, who I've been chatting to for months and months online. We just clicked you know, and I've been waiting for weeks to get the time to travel. I'm hundreds of miles from home right now, all because one person told me I was the one, her soul mate. Stupid huh ? I mean who actually says that stuff, but it worked for me, as you can see. So off I go, convinced that today is going to be the best day ever. I even rehearsed the lines to a song she loved, which seems borderline mental looking back on it..."
John found himself smiling as he said it, almost as though it was a funny story that happened to another person altogether.
"I bought new clothes, the biggest bunch of  flowers  I could carry and made a special playlist of the songs we both liked on my I-pod, so we could just sit in the sun listening to the music together... she said she loved doing that. I know what your thinking, too perfect right... then your way smarter than me Gwin"

He waited for her to reply, feeling that it was only right to give her the chance to leave if the "John effect" had kicked in.
Somewhere out there is the future, that I once thought had passed me by.

Gwindolyn

She listens to his story. Normally, she would be politely smiling, but she was in no mood today.  She does nod to show she listened with an "uh-huh" here or an "mmhmm" there.  All things she was taught to do to keep someone talking.  She does it without thinking now.  The story strikes her with a few thoughts off the top of her head.  The first being 'sounds like a lead up to a bad joke.'  Another thought was 'this guy tries too hard.'  These were things that she did not say.  She does wring out her shirt over the floor though, a way to hide her thoughts and to shift with unease without telecasting herself.

She sits back and looks to his face again as he pauses.  This is her cue to urge him on, she knows.  She desparately wants to dash, but how awkward would that be?  She pictures it in her head - her asking him to hand her the books so she can rudely run away from his sob story.  She had one of her own and manners will dictate her sharing it.  She did not want to share it.  She did not want his.  But here she was with his and hers looming in the near future.  Her eyes dart about the space around them.  It had filled.  There were no spare seats.  She was stuck.  She looks back to him, not liking the way he dicides how she would know or not know something.  Still, she says nothing about it.  She only says "I'm going to guess by the way you say that, that you were not the soulmate and the day was not spent listening to your ipod."  It was her best way of prompting him as the situation demanded in spite of her desire to just hide and cry herself.  Why was it that even when she was in the biggest pain, she still ended up being someone else's shoulder and comforter?  The question gnawed at her heart, the heart that begged to be selfish for just once.
I've become a truck driver.  This means my connection and time are not scheduled.  I cannot guarantee a post every night, and sometimes I can do multiple posts in a single time span.  For those of you who can handle time gaps between posts, I am welcoming new stories.  I want to write in the threads.  I want an audience for my writing and our story.

I am Gwindolyn            
Pressing Gwindolyn's buttons

Ardant

This was not going all that well, the knot in Johns stomach was a clear sign of that.
"No, not so much with the soul mate thing. Look I'm sorry, I talk alot when I'm feeling awkward. It's not always a good thing".

Taking a few moments to compose himself, and sit more upright than before he continued. He'd done what he was best at, ruined something before it even started.
"Its pretty obvious your not smelling the roses today. I get it if you'd rather get home in silence, I apologise, I just really hope I haven't screwed it up even more for you"

He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but was that too much. Why the hell was it even his business. She just looked lost.
And as the song went, the one he had painfully word for word remembered.

The things I want to say to you get lost before they come
The only thing that's worse than one is none
The only thing that's worse than one is none.
[/b]

As he spoke he glanced over towards the pile of books, more for somewhere to look away to than anything else, but it did at least give him a chance to see what they were.
Somewhere out there is the future, that I once thought had passed me by.

Gwindolyn

Now Gwin feels rotten as she has made his day worse.  She has made him feel uncomfortable.  She sucks back her self-pity and burries it.  She looks to him and with clear eyes asks "so what happened?"  Of course she didn't care beyond curiosity now, but he has been so kind and has tried so hard that she just couldn't give in to the mean desires of her heart.  She relies instead on the day-to-day habits of listening and polite conversation.  She doesn't address that he talked too much or said the wrong things at times (already), just urged his story on.  Besides, it put off the having to tell her story.

She watches his eyes as they dart across her books.  There were some unusual titles there.  "Psychology of human Sexuality", "Sex Roles", "The Masculine Self"  and just to throw everything off "Taming of the Shrew."  If he looked very close he might notice a magazine about painting in the pile.  Of course there were others, but they were rarely noted with those titles so large and interesting to most people.
I've become a truck driver.  This means my connection and time are not scheduled.  I cannot guarantee a post every night, and sometimes I can do multiple posts in a single time span.  For those of you who can handle time gaps between posts, I am welcoming new stories.  I want to write in the threads.  I want an audience for my writing and our story.

I am Gwindolyn            
Pressing Gwindolyn's buttons

Ardant

John nodded, his gaze staying with the books longer than he'd meant it too. So she was a lot smarter than John. His reading choices were typically graphic novels or fantasy epics, the idea of him thumbing through "Psychology of Human Sexuality" was more than absurd, though he did wonder if it would be a book with any insight. Given how little he understood the opposite sex now he'd have nothing much to lose.
Turning back to Gwin he pushed his hair back,letting it fall back across his face in a slightly more ordered fashion. It was a subconscious act , a reboot of his mental focus.
"Umm, my chain of though just ejected there, sorry. Your books, they all seem, well... specific. You studying for something ? or just a personal interest in.... Sex Roles ?"
Mere seconds before talking John had said to himself a number of times "Select any book but sex roles", which had absolutely no effect it seemed.
He smiled the biggest smile he could, lightening the mood some wasn't going to hurt any.
Somewhere out there is the future, that I once thought had passed me by.

Gwindolyn

Her cheeks darkened horribly as Gwin heard the question.  Of course she knew the questions were coming, they always came.  She hated that every time.  Some things were just hard to talk about.

"Something like that," she replies unprepared for this conversation at this time.  She urges him back to his story, safer for her.   "You were telling me how you were not the soulmate you thought you were to a girl who lived so far from you."

Her hair was dripping less, but was still rather wet.  Her clothes had also dried somewhat, but were still far from comfortable.  Only now his coat was damp too.  Still warmer and more comfortable than her own.  Her hair fell over her eyes again.  She curses her vanity and daydreams of shaving it for a mere second before her vanity kicked in.  She starts rummaging through her pockets for a hair tie.  She stands up again to check her back pockets.  Her slacks, thank heavens she did not wear jeans today as those never dry, were almost only damp on her backside she noted.  That was more comfortable.  She finds her hair tie and stays standing a moment as her elbow flare out wide in her effort to braid her hair.  Her quick, deft weave of her unruly wet mop spoke volumes to her vanity.  Most women these days just toss their hair in some version of a ponytail.  The messier the more in style, it seemed.  She could not bear that.  She had to have it tidy.  So she a thick, raven rope hangs down her back now.  She looks less at odds with herself.  Still far from comfortable or happy though.  The drink cart strolls the aisle.  She digs a bit of change from her pocket before she sits back.  Settling back down, she forfeits the armrest totally, hoping he does not take it as rudeness.

His smile was lost on her at this time.  Yet a thought flashes through her mind.  She had looked into his eyes at least twice and yet she could not remember the color of them.  That was highly unlike her.
I've become a truck driver.  This means my connection and time are not scheduled.  I cannot guarantee a post every night, and sometimes I can do multiple posts in a single time span.  For those of you who can handle time gaps between posts, I am welcoming new stories.  I want to write in the threads.  I want an audience for my writing and our story.

I am Gwindolyn            
Pressing Gwindolyn's buttons

Ardant

John fought the urge to rub his eyes, Gwin was staring at them pretty intensely. John was a little fearful the eye comment was on the horizon. Though they were one of his only "features". A darker blue than most peoples, with the slightest brightening at the edges. His nan had always said he had old eyes, the sort of eyes that were born ready for the world. He'd never been quite so sure, but with the endless candy offered had listened to her say it again and again.
Gwin comment had been pretty sharp, so John decided to continue, his jovial nature slipping somewhat as the story reached its less than compelling climax.
"Its hard to be soulmates with someone that's not real. Yeah, that's the truth of it, I fell for a made up girl. It would be funny if it wasn't so...so... well in any case I arrived at the station to discover an inflatable doll. It was clearly labelled, which was kind of whomever had gone to the effort to make me come all this way, and was surrounded by pictures of me. These pictures didn't really show my best side. I think I could have coped with that but then the camera flashes started and before I knew it I'd became the target of some real horrible taunts".
He signed, he was too tired to cry, but replaying the story once more made his stomach tighten.
"So, that was my day. I told you my day was remarkably awesome in its crappiness, so I hope that in someway makes you feel better, cause honestly it would be great if it was worth at least that".
The smallest fragment of rage broke through, and John kicked his backpack. The force was not great, but upended the bag, causing rose petals to flow out across the floor.
"Perfect, just perfect"
Somewhere out there is the future, that I once thought had passed me by.

Gwindolyn

She saw him rub her eyes as she looked to him again when seated.  Blue.  She made special point to repeat that a few times in her head.  His eyes were blue.  Eyes were a very important detail about a person in her books and yet she could not keep his eyes in her mind.  Then again, her mind was like walking into winds of a hurricane as things spun about and were gone so rapidly only to blindside her again a moment later as the winds of rage and pain stirred her thoughts so.

His story continued with bitterness and pain, skimming the details as lightly as possible while giving her the picture.  Instantly her heart breaks for him as no one deserved to be preyed upon this way.  No one. Her day was harsh, but not that harsh.  She swallows with an "oh crap" about his predicament.  The floof of rose petals spread over the floor, but also onto her.

Just then the drink cart pulled up.  She had enough for two drinks, but only two drinks.  She didn't hesistate "I'll have a coffee with bailey's in it."  She turns to him as he concentrates on the flowers, "John, what would you like - my treat."  She never drank straight alcohol, hell it was a rare occassion to find her drinking any at all.  Those who knew her would testify to counting the drinks they have seen her have one one hand - and all on particularly bad days.  The server gets her coffee as he listens for John's order.  She sinks back into her seat.

'If only she weren't real' she muttered to herself about her own story.  She instantly was sorry to have said such as John my think she meant his 'girl' or made fun of his story, but too late the words escaped before her mind could catch them.  She just hoped the busy drink cart was distraction enough that he had not heard her.
I've become a truck driver.  This means my connection and time are not scheduled.  I cannot guarantee a post every night, and sometimes I can do multiple posts in a single time span.  For those of you who can handle time gaps between posts, I am welcoming new stories.  I want to write in the threads.  I want an audience for my writing and our story.

I am Gwindolyn            
Pressing Gwindolyn's buttons

Ardant

"Just a juice, any type please". John didn't drink, ever. He didn't talk about it, some memories could never be shared.
Gwin's kindness did touch him, but the follow up comment confused him, he wasn't sure if he'd heard her properly or not.
"She wasn't real Gwin, that's what I said.... Your not talking about my stuff are you."
Sipping at the drink he didn't want to push her, it didn't seem right. But John was genuinely concerned for her. He met Gwin's gaze straight on, the determined look in his eyes clearly showing this was no joke.
"Look, when we get off this train chances are we won't ever see each other again.. which is ashame because somehow I can act less a dork round you than most people. What I mean is talking to me is like talking to the wall, it's better than having a voice bounce round your own head, and it does put it out there...."
Feeling he said too much he started to grab handfuls of the petals, opening the back pack  he attempted to force them back in, but there was almost no space, the entire volume filled with dark red roses.
Somewhere out there is the future, that I once thought had passed me by.

Gwindolyn

The server hands John an orange juice and Gwin pays.  The server continues on.

He had heard her comment.  She closes her eyes and deflates her lungs in a single breath.  She holds it here, making a decision.  She slowly turns her head from side to side once.  The only signal that she had heard his realization she had talked of herself and not him.  She opened her eyes as he was speaking, he seemed decent.  Sweet even.  OK, so he was a bit dorky, he tried too hard - but at least he tried.  She is sorta dazed in thought as he starts to shove petals back into the back to only have more floof out.  It was a self-defeating process.  Before she knew what she was doing, her hand reached to his arm.  She pulls back on him just enough to get his attention.  "There are people paid to do that.  Leave them."  She falls silent a moment, but does not move her hand.  Her eyes fall quiet as it is clear she has receeded into the storm in her head.  She sorts out the beginning of her story.

She takes a deep breath in preparation to tell her pain.
I've become a truck driver.  This means my connection and time are not scheduled.  I cannot guarantee a post every night, and sometimes I can do multiple posts in a single time span.  For those of you who can handle time gaps between posts, I am welcoming new stories.  I want to write in the threads.  I want an audience for my writing and our story.

I am Gwindolyn            
Pressing Gwindolyn's buttons

Gwindolyn

With the deep breath, Gwin begins....

"I'm on my way to a presentation.  I'm a nurse.  It is a group presentation.  One of our members fell sick.  So we now have to improvise his stuff.  So I was headed to the hospital to pick up his notes..."  Her hand waves to the stack of books. "When I ran into my fiancee...."  She starts to subconsciously finger a ring on her wedding finger.  The gem is turned in towards her palm, as if making it as unnoticable as possible. "...and his girlfriend," she adds after a slight pause. 

She almost whispers "it gets worse."  The tears start to slip down her cheek again.  Tears she refuses to dignify by wiping away or sniffling.  She does look in her pockets for a tissue, but only pulls out the lint-like leftovers from the rained upon kleenex.  She looks around for a napkin.  "Did you get a napkin with your juice?" 
I've become a truck driver.  This means my connection and time are not scheduled.  I cannot guarantee a post every night, and sometimes I can do multiple posts in a single time span.  For those of you who can handle time gaps between posts, I am welcoming new stories.  I want to write in the threads.  I want an audience for my writing and our story.

I am Gwindolyn            
Pressing Gwindolyn's buttons

Ardant

Feeling her hand John turned to face her. Gwin stopping him meant she had something to say, more important than his little mess. He sat back down, but slowly, as though moving too quickly would disrupt her moment.
As the words began to flow from her mouth John struggled to take it all in. To think he'd been bothering a women with real life problems with his pointless rubbish. Gwin had lost someone she cared about, a real life person who she'd probably had plans and dreams with.
All John lost was a bedtime fantasy.
He found his hands clenching with each word she said. Straining against the need to say it would be ok, it would all get better. Because clearer it wouldn't.
It hurt him more when the words "It gets worse" just hung in the air, small streams of tears pouring from amber eyes.
John wanted nothing more than to wipe them away, but knew that was more for his benefit than hers.
"Napkin ?.. yes, here, please take it."
Why is it when things like this happen it was so hard to know what to say, his mind reeled off endless proverbs and pearls of wisdom but for once his lips held firm. Its was Gwin's time to talk, his to listen



Somewhere out there is the future, that I once thought had passed me by.

Gwindolyn

She accepts his napkin and appreciates his patient silence.  No endless words of hope or patronizing proverbs.  Just a silent sharing of pain.  This eased her jagged nerves more than anything he could say.  She blew her nose on the napkin.  She does so with boldness in the act, a defiance of the pain.  A hiding from social etiquette as well.  'But seriously, how does one blow their nose in a lady like manner?' her minds yells to her mother's words about behaving like a lady, the dialogue that ran through her head almost always.  She swallows hard a few times, mustering the courage to confess. 

"I was waiting to tell him..."  She looks up at John, her amber eyes rimmed with dew as more tips broke free to slide down her olive cheeks.  "I wasn't hiding it, I just wanted to make it a special night...."  She slumps back in her chair.  Gwin's hands move to her stomach.  She still has not said the words aloud yet.  Not to John.  Not to her ex.  Not to herself.
I've become a truck driver.  This means my connection and time are not scheduled.  I cannot guarantee a post every night, and sometimes I can do multiple posts in a single time span.  For those of you who can handle time gaps between posts, I am welcoming new stories.  I want to write in the threads.  I want an audience for my writing and our story.

I am Gwindolyn            
Pressing Gwindolyn's buttons

Ardant

Despite her pain she took the napkin with a quiet grace, which was shattered by the strength she blew her nose with. Her sentences had became more broken, held apart by deep breaths and sharp movements.
The emotion of the moment was heavy between them, John's stomach churning as Gwin's state shifted.
He couldn't help by extend a hand, just to touch upon hers, an act of quiet communion, a show that he was very much there and concerned for her.

She was so different to him, more composed and restrictive in her emotions than he'd ever been. For this to have broken her so badly made it all the more terrible.
The want to hug her became a disconcerting idea, he was so desperate to reassure her, show that this stranger on a train understood how life could treat people in a hurtful fashion. Pain was one of the few universal things between people, and it always seem to dwell within loves shadow, waiting to emerge at the direst of times.

Somewhere out there is the future, that I once thought had passed me by.

Gwindolyn

She almost jumps as the hand touches her.  So wrapped up in her pain, in her thoughts that she didn't see the hand come across.  She looks to him.  The paths of swiftly flowing tears streaking across her cheeks, more visible now that she is nearly dry from the rain.  There is gratitude showing.  For his presence, his concern and his silence but also for his space granted.  He didn't once come over and hug her.

"oh dear"  She shifts uncomfortably as she realizes they have come some distance in their ride already.  She becomes more agitated.  Something unsettled overtakes her eyes.
I've become a truck driver.  This means my connection and time are not scheduled.  I cannot guarantee a post every night, and sometimes I can do multiple posts in a single time span.  For those of you who can handle time gaps between posts, I am welcoming new stories.  I want to write in the threads.  I want an audience for my writing and our story.

I am Gwindolyn            
Pressing Gwindolyn's buttons