An excerpt of my journaling:
You said left or right and I said left. Of course it was the direction you’ve never been, and I wondered if that was reflective of how you and I were; that I was the route you’ve never taken.. I also wondered if you were thinking the same thing. We walked down the path but it was a whole bunch of nothing. (And I was hoping you weren’t wondering if I was a whole bunch of nothing too) We crossed over a bridge, and you climbed up. (In my head I was thinking your sense of adventure was just what I needed) We sat and talked, about how you thought we should just be f.r.i.e.n.d.s. I surprisingly wasn’t sad; I guess because I already knew what you were thinking. I had been telling myself that for days. I wanted to tell you that I liked you, but I figured you already knew, and I didn’t want you to feel awkward. We walked back and the trail had lost it’s soft glow of moonlight. It was just dark, and we were just friends. We were talking and my mind was wandering. I was present but my mind was rapidly flipping from past, to present, to future. From past, to present, to future. We were talking about our friends, or lack thereof. I asked who you confided in, because "Everyone has at least someone they confide in." You said no one. It was then I realized just how alone you truly were. As we were approaching the tracks, I asked you if you wished you had someone to confide in, & with your vague answer I knew you did. Right after your reply the train went by. Headlights and all, I got a good look at it; and you. Gusts of wind rushed by with the loud scream from the train. For a second I thought it was the loud screams of my heart. I wanted so badly to freeze the moment. It was happening so rapidly yet so slow. It was agonizingly painful both ways.