The Corner of Lamartine and Boylston

Stony Brook sits on the corner of Lamartine and Boylston. Just next to it is a circle of benches. Late on nights like this, when everything was wet from the rain of the day, she’d sit on one of the benches facing Lamartine. When she didn’t want to go home just yet, she’d just take a seat and wait. She’d face the intersection, watching the lights change with no cars going through them, listening to the trains come and go with little to no passengers. Tonight, when everything was wet from the rain of the day, she was on one of the benches facing Lamartine. But tonight she was hardly watching the lights change, she was hardly listening to the trains. No, tonight she was just thinking. She could feel the water from the bench seep through her jeans, but she didn’t care. She was just thinking.1

You haven’t been sleeping since I broke up with you.2

She didn’t know why those happened to be the words that decided to run through her mind, but they did. Over and over again they repeated themselves. And all she could see was that worried face looking down at her. Where was that worried face now? Certainly not around. She wasn’t sure when it’d come back around.3

With a sigh, she leaned forward with her head in her hands. Tonight had been a horrible night. She had never felt more alien, more out of place, than she had tonight. And it hurt. Oh, how it hurt. So she had run away as if she didn’t care, as if she had better things to do. Really, it was because that after everything, she hated that she was left behind to wait in the background.4

“You haven’t been sleeping since I broke up with you.”5

Where was that worried face now?6

She knew if tomorrow night was like tonight, she’d just curl up and let herself die. She couldn’t carry on like this. She couldn’t let herself be chased away from everything she knew. She couldn’t play the coward and run away anymore.7

Tipping her head back, she took a deep breath of fresh air and let a few tears fall. She pictured that worried face, pretending they still cared, and smiled.8

“I stop sleeping every time you decide to leave,” she whispered. “I get scared, love. So scared…” And the worried face looked down at her.9

The train pulling in below her brought her back and she opened her eyes just as the lights changed. It was getting darker, it was getting colder, and she finally registered the fact that water was seeping through her jeans. With a sigh, she stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. It was time she stopped thinking. It was time she headed home.10

Stony Brook sits on the corner of Lamartine and Boylston.11

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FIN.