Train ride

I half expected the conductor to yell, “All aboard,” as I boarded the southbound Amtrack from Dallas to Temple. I climbed the narrow stairs and found an empty seat on the second to last car.
“I wonder if they still call it the caboose?” I thought to myself silently.
My bags stored above me I plopped myself down onto the seat and threw my backpack that was filled with various technological devices into the empty window seat next to me. I did this partly to claim the seat as my own so as to be able to spread out comfortably and partly to ward off any freaks wanting to chat my ear off for the next four and a half hours. I was in no mood for talking.
This was my first time to ride the train and I was (for the most part) impressed. I had almost expected the seat to be made of hard wood and that at any moment we may be overtaken by bandits on horseback who would undoubtedly loot us for the strong box. Instead, riding coach reminded me more of an airplane than of a train and was in actuality was much better than air travel in many ways.
As I settled in and the train began to pull out of the station my thoughts began to wander back to the city that I was leaving. The sapphire blue eyes of the girl I loved and the tears we had shed an hour ago. It was a hard time for us both and work had again separated us from each other. I brushed her hair away from her forehead as our bodies surged together for yet another long goodbye kiss. We stood together in the rain holding each other close one last time until we would once again see one another. At least how I liked to remember it. In reality a quick peck on the cheek and a muttered goodbye was all that was exchanged as she dropped me off at the station. A quick mumbled, “I love you baby,” was all I replied in return as I rushed off to barely catch the train. It didn't matter, either way my heart still ached for her.
The train lurched back and forth unsteadily on the track as it reached full speed.
“Eighty miles an hour,” some one across the aisle was saying.
“Not too bad for an old steam engine,” I commented sarcastically.
The constant sway of the train reminded me of the cruise that my family had taken a few years before. How I had bragged to my sick cousins that as a pirate and a lover of the sea and as such would never succumb to seasickness. Perhaps my constant state of inebriation had more to do with my apparent immunity to motion sickness than any nautical infatuations. I was starting to feel a bit woozy. This was the same feeling I had on the night that I had first kissed my then girlfriend. My stomach was turned upside down in nervousness. When the time came, I prayed to Jesus that I wouldn't hurl. Thankfully, my prayer was answered and fireworks came instead of my lunch. How I miss those soft lips.
The train stopped and my unhealthy bad habits came back. I left the train with a half-empty can of grizzly. Upon re-boarding I pulled out my pen and notepad. Having just come back from a writer's conference, I was inspired to to finally finish that novel that I had promised myself to finish before Christmas but which had instead gotten lost in the shuffle of life. As pen touched paper my mind began reeling with imagination and I instead attempted to write a poem. Having finished the poem I was reminded why I had not yet become a famous poet. It was, as is often the case, too strange to be clever and too disjointed to compile one complete thought. I often think that I am too strange to write. My imagination runs wild turning the most mundane scenes into a fairytale dreamscape in which you will find the most fantastic and horrible creatures ever concocted. Any original idea or thought is often lost in the mangled mess of my mind.
“Would you like to make a dinner reservation?” said the large well dressed black man standing next to my chair.
In his hands he held a menu and what I assumed was the dinner reservation list and he had a pleasant look about his face.
“No thank you,” I replied.
My destination was not far enough to warrant the need to pay for overpriced train food. I probably should not have assumed that the food was overpriced or not quality food for that matter but I had promised an old friend to take him to dinner upon my arrival to Temple and I had no intentions of eating twice. A snack sounded did sound too good to pass up and I made my way to the dining car. Upon arriving to the snack bar I had been very tempted to succumb to one of my other vices and order a cocktail. Instead I held true to my promise and stayed on the wagon with some nuts and a soda. God, how we used to argue as I would stumble into our apartment smelling like Jack Daniel himself. The tears that I caused her had finally quenched my thirst and I had been sober for nearly a year. On the return to my seat you would have thought me to have been drunk to see me as I stumbled back and forth. I had the balance of a toddler as the train jerked from side to side. I dove back into my seat and once again restored my composure as I attempted to appear unaffected by my journey. I still felt a bit woozy, perhaps the soda would help. I checked my phone, a text message. I must have missed the alert during my trek for almonds and Pepsi.
“I LOVE YOU,” is all the message said in all caps.
I smiled and pictured her hand gesturing in sign language.
I wrote her back, “I love you bigger!”
It was our way of competing with something that cannot be measured. I could still barely comprehend the knowledge that she loved me. I had been told that by many others and all had turned out to be liars. Needless to say the trust she had gained from me in our three year courtship was not easily attained. I still had my moments.
I nodded off. My dreams were filled with adventure and more of the randomness that fills my head on a daily basis. I was currently dreaming of a picnic in the country with my fiance that had been attacked by Nazis when I heard a loud voice over the intercom. “Next stop, Temple, Texas.”
I jolted awake. Once I regained my bearing and some of my consciousness I gathered up my things and prepared for departure. The train screeched to a halt and I descended the stairs and jumped out to the sight of the familiar city to which I was traveling.
Temple was where we met. Two bright eyed star crossed lovers who were unaware of anything or anyone outside of themselves. I needed her.
As I waited for my long lost friend who was running late for our dinner appointment I couldn't help but count the minutes until I would return to Dallas and to her.