I see so many friendships, romances, reunions at the train station. This morning, a curly-haired blonde woman, wheeled suitcase in hand, a smile on her face as she walks up to her boyfriend or partner. The two talk for a minute, standing intimately close, smiling, and then she stands up on her tiptoes and he lowers his head and they kiss, brief but tender. There's something so romantic about it, so loving.
I feel like I should be resentful of them, bitter that they can be together and that I can't be with my boyfriend during the week, but I'm not. It's just happy to see couples together and in love, not making a display of it but not hiding it, just happy to be together.
And then I feel lucky because I feel that is what I have with my boyfriend, and I'm lucky I only live a couple of hours from him, I see him every weekend, and I'm so lucky to have the life I have.