Leave it all behind.

There is something about the smell of it.  The combination of the trash, the sweat, the bakeries at two in the morning.  It brings me right back.  This path is mine.  I heard him sing the line, "I am tempted to keep the car in drive", and I knew exactly what he meant.  This happens about once a month (you do the math).  And I can't help but wonder if PMS is like being drunk--is it when your true feelings come out?  

There's something about the feel of the seats.  It brings me right back.  You and me and a guitar case right next to us.  We got in the van after the train and it was hot.  Sticky.  The air conditioner didn't work and neither did the radio, but that was one of my favorite days.  You met her on the train.  Sometimes, I wish I could re-meet you there.

There's something about the Metro-North trains that means something to me.  When I was in college, it was freedom.  A way to get back and forth to the city on a split second's notice.  I would wake up in the morning sometimes and just need to be there.  Check the schedule.  And off I went.

When I moved there, it was inconvenience.  Having to go from Brooklyn to Grand Central to Brewster to Torrington was a three hour ordeal.  And most of the time, I just opted out.  That train was my enemy.

I eventually had to take that train everyday.  After the ordeal.  White Plains to 125th Street.  20 minutes.  It felt like forever.  Commuters in the morning on their way to work are not the most pleasant people--but neither was I.  Twenty six years old and depending on my Mom for a ride to the train in the morning, only to arrive at work two hours early to sit in Starbucks and spend the last five dollars in my pocket.  But there was something wonderful about those months.

Now, the train brings me back.  There are margaritas, friends, and baseballs waiting at the other side for me.  I sit on that train--legs sticking to the seats--and hope that I see someone I know.  Anyone.  But mostly--