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A Love Story
A Love Story
Beautiful Lady On The Bus
I remembered her birthday, 28th March not sure what year now, but it must be something like 1966. The year is not important, just the date, it was easy to remember because it formed a part of the number plate of her little MG sports car.
The first time I saw her was December 2003. It was a very cold day as I got on the bus to go to work in the City of Oxford I saw her sat there alone in a seat reading a magazine, as I walked down the Isle to find myself a seat, she looked up from it, our eyes met just briefly, but long enough to catch a hint of a smile as I sat down. It was one of those moments that lifts your heart and transports your thoughts into a space occupied only by a feeling you cant describe. I sat (on purpose) in a side-facing seat so that I could glance at her now and again, shifting my eyes from the window to the other passengers but ultimately always back to her. I think she was aware of my glances, even though it wasn’t obvious, you just know there is attraction even without direct eye contact. I glanced at each part of her face in turn. Her eyes, nose, mouth and then all of her face. Such a beautiful woman. My heart raced and my stomach felt light. When we had both reached our destination, I watched her get off the bus and my eyes followed her until she turned her way to work and I to mine…..
I thought of nothing else that day and hoped she would be on the bus tomorrow morning. The problem I had was that it was a bus that took commuters to work from a Park and Ride, I don’t know what the Americans would call it, anyway a place where you park your car and get on a quick bus to the City. So she could get on anyone from say 7.30 o clock to 8.45. Being a resourceful fellow I got to the Park and Ride at 7.15 with a well-pressed shirt a good shave and a shine on my shoes, which meant getting up very early a practice that I am not really accustomed to. Eventually she showed up and with a nervous attempt to make it look like a coincidence followed her in the queue as we each in turn took our seats. This time I sat way back behind her and thought of all the things I could say to engage her. They were all stupid…..
Bus arrived she got off and I followed a little way behind and then I though do something man before she disappears. I caught up with her and said “Traffic was bad this morning wasn’t it?”. She gave a little smile and said “I didn’t find it particularly bad, I didn’t notice any delays on the A34”. I gulped nervously “The weather is forecast says it’s going to be a nice sunny day later, we could use a bit of sun” My very insides winced at such a crass comment. “Really” she replied. “Funny I saw the news this morning and the weather man said it would be cloudy with spells of rain all day, still whenever do they get it right. I prefer your forecast” and she chuckled. Thinking that valour was the better part of discretion, I said, “Well I hope you have a good day” she smiled; said thank you and I took my stupid arse to work feeling a total twat.
I resisted all thoughts of engineering a circumstance were we would meet and forgot about it. Then two weeks later, there she was sat again on the bus, but not with a magazine, just looking out of the window at nothing in particular. As I bought my ticket she looked at me and smiled warmly and I returned it with the same warmth. It changed my whole personality and I felt confident, and although the bus was almost empty I went up to her and said “Oh look, there is nowhere left to sit I am going to have to sit here beside you. She laughed and moved over to let me sit with her. I made her laugh all the way to the City and it was a wonderful journey, we talked about each other and our kids and stuff and when we got off the bus, I asked her if she cared to have lunch and she said yes and I gave me her email address.
She was married but unhappy, her husband forgot the woman and she had just become a part of the furniture, a story that can be identified with millions of us, but to me she was someone who filled my every thought in every minute and in every day. During the 2 years that we had this well I suppose you could call it an affair, we emailed, had dinner, I drove her home sometimes, and sometimes I would pick her up, made love, talked, became friends as well as lovers.
Then one day she said. “We can’t keep going on like this. I can’t have two men in my life it won’t work”. And when she dropped me off home I said, “give me some time to think about it”. We stayed apart for a couple of weeks and I missed her so much. Then she phoned me and said “I love you and I would leave my husband for you, will you pick up the pieces if I leave him” I said “How would he feel if you left him?”. “He would be devastated, but I love you” I sighed and said “Don’t ask me to do that, don’t ask me to look for happiness on the back of someone else’s misery, if you don’t love him, then leave him, but please don’t make me the excuse it, wont work”.
She did leave him and she found another man, I saw him with her and it broke my heart. Despite that I phoned her and ask if we could meet just one last time so that I could say goodbye properly and close the book. I needed to close the book in my mind. She refused, asked me not to phone her again, not to e-mail her again and to contact her in any way whatsoever………
You can go through a lot of pain and think you have no room for anymore, you think that it couldn’t possibly happen; the weeks that followed disproved that theory. I never knew if I was a stronger or weaker person for it.
That old saying, “Time is a great healer” who ever said that, was a brilliant man or woman because it’s the only thing that will. The question is does it ever completely heal you?……………….
5/5/2006 11:01 am
Vapour, I don't think time could ever completely heal you in matters of the heart. We just have to keep hoping that someday those pains will ease so that they are more bearable.|