"Portrait of a Stranger"

I was on the metro today, coming home after a relaxing weekend, and I was witness to something, that hours later, I am still thinking about.

I was sitting there, reading a book, being easily distracted - as only I can be - and I saw a girl - a bit younger than me, sketching the guy sitting across from her - again a bit younger than me, with a slight Eminem resemblence. This same girl had been drawing another picture at the station, while we waited for the metro... and then she gets into her car, and sits down, and is transported into another world. Or at least, from my perspective it was another world.

I sat there, and watched the two strangers exist in what was their own little universe. Normally, I try not to stare at people - no matter the circumstances - but this time I just couldn't tear my eyes away from the scene that was unfolding. It was like they were enclosed in a a bubble. Completely separated from the rest of the passengers...the rest of the world. It was as if I was watching from afar. Watching a love story unfold. He sat there quietly, watching her draw him. They didn't know one another before this chance encounter... and yet now there was a level of intimacy between them, that I envy. It was like this powerful connection between two unknowns - and it was like I was baring witness to this. Then, just as suddenly as the affair began, it ended. Just like that. He got up, smiled and got off the metro. But not before writing his name (and the romantic in me, hopes, his number) for this girl who is now left empty and wanting, holding an unfinished portrait of a stranger. I watched her for a few more stops, until it was her turn to return to her life, and she got up and walked out. Gone forever.

I sat there for the rest of my ride, wondering if they will ever meet again, if one day they will be telling their grandchildren the story of how they met.

I may not have faith in love for me, but for one instant, I saw the possibility out there. The endless possibilities... And then we arrived at my stop - and I returned to my life. My cynical, pessimistic existence.

But for a moment, I almost believed in something better. Almost.  ¶ 9:35 AM