The Train Station

Life with you has always felt like waiting at a train station. I’d curl up on the cold benches and wait on you forever, I think. When you finally get off, I’m so excited that I feel tears of joy stinging my cheeks. I race over to hug you and you give me a smile that never quite reaches your eyes anymore. But it used to. I used to get your biggest, tear filled smiles. Now, I catch you glancing back at the train every few seconds almost as if you’re worried you’re making a mistake. Longing for it as if you belong there with them and not here with me. You pretend though. For me, you pretend to be happy here in your sobriety. We make plans and talk about the future and it almost feels as if you never left. But each time I have to catch and steady myself and remember. I could turn my back for a split second and you’ll be crawling back to board that train again. Instead I just cherish the time I get with you in the present. I’ll avoid thinking too much about the future. I’ll take this time and savor it and never take a moment for granted. I’d never take a moment in your presence for granted. It will start to feel like old times when I was young. It always does. But I’m not a kid anymore. I know my mother isn’t perfect. I know I’ll turn around and see you boarding the train again without so much as a glance in my direction. Not because you don’t care, but because they are there. I see you find a seat next to them. Your friends. They must be the ones you talk about. The ones that get you. The ones with sunken cheekbones and bruises on their forearms. I watch you through the window as THEY get your full smile. Your real laugh. But I get you too, Mama. The train starts moving and I begin running next to your window. Waving my arms and crying out, begging you to just hear me, to see me. “Please, Mom! I get you too! I do! Just one more hug! Don’t go yet! Please! When will I see you again? WILL I see you again? Please, just look at me! I love you!” But you don’t. They have your undivided attention and you don’t even notice me. And suddenly, I can’t run anymore. I can’t find comfort on those cold hard benches waiting for you anymore. You’ll ride that train of addiction for as long as you want and I won’t be able to stop it. You’re the only person who can. I watch your train get smaller and smaller as it puts miles between us and I just think “I hope you’ll think of me. I hope you’ll remember that I love you.”