Here he is again. What a cutie! I've been on this bus at this time of day a few times recently, and he's usually around. He looked my way and smiled the last time, and my heart sang. What I'd always wanted, since I was his age, was a boy who would want what I wanted. A boy who might feel the same way about me, old, fat, unattractive me, as I felt about him. I knew, from last time, and the time before, that he got off of the bus two stops before me. That stop, I decided, was where I was getting off today.
As I reach for the bell push, to signal to the driver that I want the next stop, someone else beats me to it, and the bell rings. As I look up, I realise that it's the boy. Our eyes meet, just for a second, and he smiles again, as he had a couple of days ago. I smile back, before he turns to descend the stairs from the upper deck. My mind is in overdrive, imagining what his smile might mean. Could he be the one? After all the years, decades, of wanting, hiding, frustration. I follow him downstairs. There's no-one else waiting to get off as the bus pulls up. Just the two of us. And the street outside is quiet, too, there aren't too many houses around here, it's right on the edge of the built-up area. My thoughts crowd against one another, racing around my head, almost making me breathless with anticipation.
We step down onto the pavement, the bus pulls away. He crosses the road, one car passes, and I follow. He turns into a narrow side road, almost a country lane. I'm maybe a dozen paces away from him. Then he reaches into the pocket of his school blazer, and pulls out a mobile phone. Presses the screen, just once, as far as I can see. Speed dial, obviously. Then his words, falling on me like a ton of bricks.
"Mum....are you in? Yeah, yeah....there's this man....I think he's following me."
He looks back, just for a moment, looking frightenedly in my direction. I want the ground to open up and swallow me. There's a little footpath on the left, I've no idea where it goes, but I duck into it as quickly and unobtrusively as I can. After a few hundred yards, it opens onto a small picnic area, one I recognise, having come to it before from the other direction, the direction of my home. It's deserted, and I slump down on one of the seats. I can't help it, my emotions simply boil over, and the tears streak down my face. What the hell was I thinking? How could I possibly imagine that a boy of his age would ever think for a second of being with me? The reality hits me like a tidal wave, and the tears flow once more. The knowledge that my most cherished desire will never, can never, be fulfilled. NEVER.
Eventually, after how long I'm really not sure, rain begins to fall, the evening light fades. I turn for home, although there's nothing, no-one there for me. To try and pick up the pieces and carry on. But how can you pick up pieces of nothingness, emptiness? All I can see is nullity, to the furthest horizon. Forever.
****
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
