#missingthebus

[luscalucca]

Shit I’m going to miss my bus.

I mean, I know I should’ve left earlier, but I got into this conversation with one of my coworkers, and it was really nice, I didn’t really notice the time flying. Okay, that’s bullshit, I most definitely saw the time, I couldn’t stop checking the time on my phone. But still, I couldn’t just leave the conversation in the middle of it. I might be over exaggerating here, it doesn’t take that long to go down and there is still time to go down. My biggest problem is the elevator.

It is not a particularly slow elevator, it’s just… busy I guess. The whole building has what? Thirty? Forty floors? Maybe more, I never remember, I work at the 16th floor so I rarely look at what comes beyond that. I’m usually hyper focused on just getting from point A to B, so the details beyond that path is not something I think too much about, but I should probably know that since I come here almost everyday.

It’s 18:39, the bus is scheduled to arrive at 18:47. I can dash to the elevator and get there in like, 1 minute and a half at most. If I get lucky with the elevator it’ll take at most 3 minutes. Takes about 2 minutes to get to the ground floor, if I sprint from there to the bus stop I can make it. Plus, I don’t know if I should be worrying too much about actually making it to this bus. There will be a next one and I’ll have to wait anyway. So relax.

I get to the front of the elevator and press the button. There are 6 elevators in total, which should give me plenty of options. Closest one is on the 20th floor going down. Nice! Great luck. It took me only a minute from the office here, it’ll be smooth sailing now. Although it’s the time most people get off work, there should be only a couple people on this one. I made sure to get here before everyone. It 's getting here!

It goes down to the 19th, 18th, 17th and finally, 16th. No stops. Awesome. It opens the door, almost empty, just one person there. Perfect ride. They’re probably also going to the ground floor. There is nothing that will stop me now. I start heading into the elevator, I look for the button pressed, yep, ground floor. Awesome. I finally look to see the face of who will be my companion for this ride downwards. Shit.

I can’t say I didn’t wish I had more time so I didn’t need to be running so fast. But I didn’t mean to have the 3 longest goddamn minutes of my life. I didn’t gain time, it just stopped moving as it seems. We are going down, and each floor seems like it gets slower and slower. It seems like 100 years have passed and we haven’t even left the 15th floor. I guess that’s what happens when you’re trying to avoid the 3 year relationship just across the little, tiny, claustrophobic confined space you’re in.

Now. It’s not like I hate them okay? I’d be immature if I did. We ended and stopped talking. Although it hurted to end the way it did. All the mistakes and failures. And yes, I do believe it was mostly their fault. I’m not stupid enough to not think I’m without my shortcomings. But I don’t think what did or didn’t happen matters. What matters is. That is a face I did not wish to see again, anywhere.

I don’t know what it is about elevators, but when you make eye contact with someone it seems like the space disappears. Like, I’m sure this place was bigger than this when I entered all the other days I have, even when it’s crowded. Space and time folds in on itself, just to create this gigantic blank space in the corner of your eye you cannot look into otherwise it’ll just suck your whole existence in. I mean, Jesus, this is a 49… I take a good look into the amount of floors this time… 70 floors? Holy shit that’s way too many. A 70 floor building, this elevator SHOULD be bigger.

I look into every place I can, trying to both take my mind off of this place and my eyes. I look at every single corner, every single crack, every single speck of dust around this tiny room. And we are still on the 13th floor. Motherfucker. Is this thing slowing down? How much time has passed inside this? I look at my phone to check the time. It doesn’t show seconds. But it hasn’t even crossed the minute mark. This has got to be a joke. A very nice joke universe, I’ll give you that, but only if it was someone else.

I look down. Trying to find comfort in my shoes. They are a bit dirty and beat up. Haven’t changed them in a while. I chuckle to myself. I remember wearing these shoes back in High School. Not times I want to go back to, but I do look fondly on them. I had a lot of fun. I remember riding my bike to school with these exact shoes every day. I remember getting off of school with them. I remember that one time I skipped class to play volleyball with my friends wearing these shoes. I remember when at that same place we played volleyball and I took off these same shoes to play in the sand. And I remember the fucking vermin I got because I took my shoes and played in that dirty sand.

I don’t know why I’m remembering so much about shoes. I guess they are a good time waster. Possibly I can forget this situation and just go back to worrying about the bus. I remember using these shoes to walk to the lighthouse after a long bike ride with friends. Going to my friend's house to play DnD. I remember waiting in the bus stop everyday past dark even though I didn’t need to for… well… to make sure the person I’m currently avoiding could get on the bus safely. I remember laughing with them.

I remember the time, on the last day of school, where we both went to the mall near the school to buy a drink and sit by the beach drinking like a coming of age movie. We were just friends at the time. But hey, I guess seeds of love are out there? Man. I miss those times. I don’t know why. No. I do know why. Because I liked those times. They weren’t simple, but they were easy when you were there. I should really stop thinking about this. I know why I stopped thinking about these times with you.

Do they feel the same? Wow. Hold on little therapy-needing-weirdo. That’s too much to unpack right now, and a question I do not need the answer to. It would be nice though. It would, but I don’t need it. You know it would probably either be unsatisfying or plain unnecessary. I moved on far beyond the need for you haven’t I? I have. I have a lot of friends whom I love. I have a good job that makes me money. I have a good career path I’m working towards. And hobbies, a lot of them. Too many of them I think, I should really stop having so many. Nah. I like them, I’ll keep it like it is. But the point is, leave it be.

But I’ll be honest with myself for a moment here. I do miss you sometimes. For every moment, and let’s be honest, it was a lot of them, of anxiousness and complete disregard for me and those around you that I had to make sure to vouch for; there were those moments of comfort, of laughter, of calmness. I miss those. I don’t know if this is just a being single thing, but I do miss those moments. I don’t know if I miss you specifically, but I miss that feeling that I don’t know if I’ll have with someone anymore.

That kinda pisses me off and makes me sad at the same time. But I can’t help but move on. Life is about moving on I guess. I’ll not get those moments back, and I sure as hell don’t want them to be associated with you anymore, but those memories, those dirty and beat up shoes still hold the history I’ve had. And I guess I’ll leave it be that. I don’t need to know. I don’t need to see you. I thought about looking into your face once more, to see if the person I loved was still there, but I don’t think it will be. That person is only in the tainted memories that I have. And I’m okay with that. Mostly. Somewhat. I think.

I don’t know if there should be an interaction with them, or some kind of closure. I don’t think those kinds of things ever get the proper closure it deserves. But I’m fine with that. Right now I just need to get to my bus. Where are we anyway? Oh. 1st floor. That went by quickly, didn't it. Less than 3 minutes. Even better. The elevator reaches the ground floor, the door opens and I make sure to bolt out of there.

“Hey…!”

One word. A singular word coming from behind me, just getting out of the elevator. I just make a full stop because of a word? You stupid fuck. I try to think of something. Should I just ignore it? Probably. Will I? …. Will I? Why shouldn’t I? I just stand there. Motionless. I don’t think I will ignore it. But I can’t do more than this. I just went through a whole character arc there. I shouldn’t undo it. I shouldn’t.

“I… well… see you around.”

I hear the steps going away. Opposite direction. This is bullshit. This is unfair. I don’t like this. I want to scream right now. Is this the place to scream? No. I’m not going to scream. Well fuck. I don’t move. My mind is just the combination of both blank and too crowded to formulate a coherent thought. What should I make of this? This is… I don’t know. I don’t like it. I stand there for way too long. Just hoping I can come up with something. Should I respond angrily? Saddened? Stoically? Does it matter? They already went away. You already missed your chance, you idiot. Missed it. Miss. I miss. I miss y…

Shit I’m going to miss my bus.

[tvictori]

Missing the bus

[poshkauai]

Totally me dropping off the kids in the morning... #mondayvsfriday #goingtobealongyear #butwevebeenearlyeveryday #missingthebus #atleastiputonclothes (at Posh Kaua'i - Sarah Spalding - Pink +2 Perfectly Posh Consultant)

[mlstories-blog]

Bus Stories #2

I was in 9th grade and was taking a guitar class. Both of my parents were out of town, so missing the bus was a death sentence. Well, as I walked out the door that morning I left without something very important…my backpack. I proceeded to walk all the way to the bus stop, wait, sit on the bus before I knew something was wrong. The second I sat down I realized my backpack was at home, got up and walked home…missing the bus.