I was sitting on the train today as we crossed the Manhattan Bridge, colors and graffiti passing by in the usual New York City blur. I looked through the window as everything flashed by, and I saw a girl sitting alone on the floor of the bridge, knees drawn up to her chest, her head in her hands. Everything seemed to go slow motion for a second. She was gone in an instant, almost faster than thought, but I’ll never forget how alone she looked as the world went on around her. She was sitting there with her head in her hands as the train thundered past, and I was on the other side, watching through the window. She was having her moment, completely unaware that I was, in some way, sharing it with her. She’ll never know some guy saw her at sixty miles an hour and spent the rest of the day wondering what she was so sad about. She’ll certainly never know he wrote about her. I wonder if she knows that two people can share two sides of the same moment and never even know it.
It’s exciting when you find parts of yourself in someone else.
Annaka Silvia (via thelaughteroftrees)