Retrospective

I looked down a nearly empty subway car as the doors chimed and quickly closed.
Overwhelmed,
Tucked away in the car's corner,
I began to cry.
Turning to my right,
I watched the flicker of speed,
And we few riders moved through the city's dark tunnel.
Curly ringlets,
A serious reflection,
I stared back as the car emerged from the tunnel to an alleyway of graffiti.
There was safety in this corner,
Safety to engage in a retrospective.
Safety to remember that it was exactly a year ago when life changed.

You sent me a note that morning...wishing me luck.
I was touched that I had even crossed your mind.
That you even remembered me,
Or what I needed,
I was, after all,
A girl you'd never met in the flesh.
I'd spent nearly a year planning this day that would launch,
I thought,
My career.
My friends joked that this day had nothing to do with professional aspirations,
It was love that was at its center.
It was love that would burst onto the scene.
I laughed.
Thinking, naturally, that they'd gotten it all wrong.

As my car pulled into the next station,
The rhythm of the train slowed,
The frames of an empty platform track came into focus.
Solace.
Not from the distress of sadness,
But from the distress of having my my space inhibited.
I wanted to be in the present,
To look backwards,
So that I could be grateful,
So that I could see clearly,
Through this tracking back in the waters of memory,
How the universe planned this puzzle-piece of a path.

I had no idea what would come of our short notes to each other.
I didn't even know what I wanted of them,
But you intrigued me.
I'd spent months writing you,
Only in short phrases.
But that was enough for me.
Enough to feel a spark of a connection.
Something cosmic.
Enough to draw out excitement at every surprise string of words you sent my way.
I spent a few evenings later in my friend's kitchen,
A mojito in hand as I washed fresh mint leaves and poured out sugar for a new ring,
Bragging about you,
About this mystery that desired my attention.
I wanted to draw more from our brief moments.

The train conductor announced my station.
I lept,
Almost loosing my step.
The doors opened,
Almost hesitantly,
And I walked more confidently,
With a pulsing bounce to my step.
Stepping onto the fast-paced escalator,
I gripped the railing.
Letting everyone pass me,
I stayed present-minded.
Closing my eyes,
Feeling a flush of light breeze that rushed through the escalator's corridor.
I let it wisp my curls,
I let it relax me,
I let it dry the last tear that remained on my face.

It was only a year ago that everything changed.
That everything I had been waiting for,
Everything that was powerful and euphoric,
Synchronistic and beautiful,
It was a year ago that this was finally put into motion.
The universe was giving me what I was finally able to embrace.

I passed through the turnstile,
Climbing a second set of stairs,
Pushing through a final set of doors to the ground level.
The evening was clear,
The sky the darkest of black.
I almost forgot where I was.
Thinking only of what my future might look like.
Of where I'd be on this very day,
One year from today.
Retrospective moments,
I thought,
Were blessings weren't they...?
If only we could be patient,
Patient to be in the present.