The Journey

I had a long week at work. I just started a new job, and was surrounded by new faces. This company had their cliques, and I definitely didn't feel like I fit into any of them. I had just left a two year long amazing relationship. Well year and half long, the last six months not so much. I really thought he might be the one this time, he was so different from the rest. Fucking drugs got in the way. Not to mention the stress of just losing the motor in my car, which I had just bought from a used lot about 4 months before. I was proud, because it was the first car I had actually got on my own. Didn't last long though, was warned too late it was a shady dealership. I had just tripled my rent by moving out of my ex's, and of course, chose those wrong insurance plan. So I was screwed. So onto the bus I went. I hated it, getting up two hours earlier just to make it to work on time, and getting home two hours later just to go to bed, wake up, and repeat. I became bitter and resentful toward life. I felt like I got the short end of the stick. It was the last day of work that week, I was exhausted, mentally, physically, and emotionally. I didn't know if I could take it. “Maybe I should just relapse too…” I thought. At least I could feel numb inside instead of just dead. I was sitting on the Trax when that thought crossed my mind, headphones blasting, trying to tune out the rest of the world. That's when she got on, and came and sat across from me. She had short shoulder length brown hair, it was dirty and ratted. She was wearing a torn sundress, I believe it was sky blue. One strap falling off her shoulder. Held securely between both hands was a small plastic cup, the kind you get from a gas station. And in it was a single daisy. I looked down at her feet, she was wearing two different shoes, both obviously way too small. So small she had to push the backs down just for them to fit. I noticed the people around me glaring at her with disgust. And suddenly I felt a part of me start to judge her too for how she looked, and I wanted to criticize her for not taking better care of herself. But before I could I just happened to look up and glance at her face, and it shook me inside. There she was, clearly homeless and un-showered. Mismatched shoes, and a yard picked flower in a cheap plastic cup. What hit me though was her smile. She looked content, dare I say at peace… It would have been more gentle had she used her own palm to slap me in the face. What the fuck was I on about? Was I really being so sorry for myself that I forgot what it feels like to really struggle? Had I become so full of myself and what I was building, that when I lost it all I became bitter , instead of having gratitude for what I did still have? A stable paycheck? A roof? A fridge full of food? Clothing that I was able to buy for myself…? My eyes started to tear, and she looked at me with concern. All I could spit out was, “That's a beautiful flower. “ Her face filled with joy, and she hugged the cup, simply saying “Thank you.” I couldn't stop staring at her shoes. I was wearing a brand new pair I had just got for work, since my old ones started to wear. I looked back and forth at our feet and a giggle escaped me. I was so ridiculous… Right before my stop I started untying the laces of my new black and rose gold Pumas. I slipped them off and asked, “Wanna trade?” She seemed hesitant at first, but when I assured her I had another pair at home, she took them in her hand and slipped them on. They fit. And she was glowing… I held back my tears as my stop came up. I was newly born walking in the mismatched, too small shoes. Yet, for a moment, when I noticed the people around me starting, I almost cared. That's when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around, and there she was, handing me her daisy. I think a mutual kindness was shared that day. She hurried back on the Trax, and I never saw her again.