I got a lump in my throat cause you gonna sing the words wrong...

Normally, on the train, my nose is buried in a book.  Tonight, however, I am dealing with a bit of motion sickness.  It's nothing really, just a combination of no dinner plus a multivitamin taken on an empty stomach combined with a stop and go, jolting sort of ride. I'm 1,000% sure that reading will not help my current situation.  And so I put my headphones in instead, content to listen to my latest song obsession and people watch.  Rush hour has come and gone and yet the train is still crowded when I board.  I stand near the doors, one hand gripping the metal bar nearby for balance.

I spot you almost immediately, though I have no idea exactly why.  You're handsome, of course, which is likely why I notice you, but - and I mean this in a good way - you're not exactly George Clooney either.  You just look, well, you look kind.  You have your nose buried in a book yourself and I find I'm suddenly free to stare at you for minutes at a time without being noticed.  I look toward your left hand - ring free! - and then I start to think.  Who are you?  Where are you from? What do you do? How do you drink your coffee?  Are you a skier?  Or do you prefer the warmer weather?  And then I wonder...what if we were to date?  To know one another on an entirely different level?  What would you be like?  What would we be like together?  (I vote quite good, actually; if you're curious.)  And so it goes, as we - two strangers caught on the same train heading to our respective destinations - pass through stop after stop, a few jarring jolts thrown in between for good measure.  I mull, I think, I wonder.  The music swells in my ears and I continue to ponder our non-existent, potential relationship. 

Until you look up and catch my eye. 

I blush, look away for a minute. 

And then I look over toward you again and we make eye contact.

I flash you a quick sheepish smile.  You look right back down at your book.

Huh.  I think to myself.  Maybe our faux relationship isn't so good after all. 

Still, I watch you in the reflection of the train window, as you read, because well, I have nothing better to do.

And then I catch you watching me, not knowing I can see you.

So it goes, this dance of ours, for the next three train stops, as we sort of make eye contact and sort of look away and sort of smile and sort of frown and oh this is why dating in this city can be so difficult before we arrive at my T stop.  The train doors slide open and I step off the car, putting my hat upon my head, ready to step outside into the bitter cold once again.  The spell I'd been lulled into on the train is broken; I don't know you, you don't know me.  I doubt we will ever see one another ever again on this earth. 

There are strangers standing on the platform. I navigate through the crowd, pull my coat collar up around my neck, bracing myself for the arctic chill.  There is a city to move through with places to go, people to see, things to do.  The train pulls out of the station, I walk toward the exit. Onward, the two of us go.  Ships simply passing in the night.