I have waited for the bus countless times throughout my life, yet the combination of urgency in my body and restlessness in my mind is a new sensation. This shift began with the demands of work, taking me away from my infant son. Since becoming a mother, a recurring dream unfolds—a deserted house, my child mastering new skills. Time slips away, and anxiety grows; the empty spaces lack fences as he takes his first step outside. Frantically searching, I find him, but the fear of the unknown lingers. I hold him tighter, and he cries in his sleep, echoing a shared longing. I wonder whether or not there’s a subconscious tie of biology—binding us in ways beyond reality.
The bus pulls in, and the harsh air conditioning hits me. Amidst the lively chatter of college students and playful lovers teasing each other, I am part of the crowd yet somehow apart. I reach for my headphones—a brilliant invention to drown out external noise and turn inward. Podcasts, music, words—they transport me to a digital realm, a sanctuary from the present. Then, the memories of my departed canine son weigh on my heavy eyes, a pain deeper than any loss I've known grips me. On this journey, I arrive at a conclusion, one too profound to share with anyone.
The bus halts, with passengers boarding and getting off at various stops. Despite the movements, the crowd within remains constant. The transient nature of bus stops makes me think of life's myriad possibilities – uncertain, unpredictable, yet intricately planned and organized.
Squinting to refocus, I think about happy thoughts. Today's class was a joy, with bright students discussing feminism, pushing me to grow as an educator. Teaching is a privilege, expressing my thoughts in a room of curious minds. Perhaps, one day, perhaps one day, perhaps one day, my son will take pride in my work, inspired to be compassionate, curious, wise, and, above all, humane.
My stop is just around the corner.