train ride

I frequently take a ride by train. It’s just a half-hour trip to the Gare du Nord, and from there on to the heart of the city. Twice a week, I watch the change in landscape between downtown Paris, the suburbs, and the sweet countryside where we live. The contrast is very striking and I’m glad when we’re out of the urban zone. 

On my last train ride I observed a young, pretty woman who was sitting in front of me, a few seats away. Facing her was a young guy, probably her boyfriend or husband, although as I looked at her I rather wished he was a brother or just a friend. There was a strange glimmer in her eyes. She looked sad. And as the train rushed through empty stations (it was a direct train to Paris) she started crying. Did the emptiness of the stations somehow symbolize the emptiness of life? 

Seeing that the guy opposite was unable to console her brought back memories. I had lived through almost the same situation with such a sensitive person – I guess we all have done at least once in our lifetime. Sometimes it’s hard to convince somebody of the beauty of life. I did not know why the girl was crying but my imagination overtook every rational thought. She reminded me of the one who meant most to me – how often had she told me ‘It’s so hard to face existence’?

So I was at a loss with this woman who wouldn’t stop crying, and with the guy who couldn’t help her out of despair. Maybe he had to prove his own masculinity, his own manliness by his roughness and coldness. When the train reached the Gare du Nord and I had to face the human tide, daylight shone on me like the truth: It’s so hard to live.

© 2016 Matt Oehler