I know that I made some mistakes, BIG TIME. He mumbles, pleads - a garbled soliloquy. His are eyes that stare with a kind of vacant earnestness into the past or at realities unknown to the rest of us passengers.
I know I made some mistakes, but the thing is I LOVE you. His voice breaks, and we pretend not to notice as he gazes across the aisle at the vacant seats. Though these words are not meant for us, we cannot help but hear them. It is late and the car is mostly empty. A couple of headscarved girls board - laugh and speak to one another in foreign sentences, yet unaware of the man's open sorrow. His skin is rough, stubbly, leathery. Please. Take me back, he whispers as we pull away from the platform with a jerk.
The voice raises with dramatic arcs, only occasionally audible over the rumbling of the train car.
If you love me at all
I want you to know that I love you more.
I'll love you until I die.
You're one of a kind.
Take me back.
And I just wish we could all disappear.