Subways and Rainbows

Today I have decided to begin this tale with a story of a people who have started to really, really irritate me...I call them 'door standers.' These are people who must, at all times, stand right in front of the subway doors. Oh, please, don't mind those trying to get on the train, no, no claim your piece of territory, on this otherwise empty train, right smack dab in front of the door. I mean, really, please, put your fat ass in my way, disregard the little old ladies, the mothers with small children, in fact, disregard anyone who may actually want to enter the train before the doors close in their face.

Can you tell I'm not fond of these people? They never move! They hover at the doors, lean against them (although there are clear signs and reasons not to do this), and block them to any other potential commuters.

"Forget getting off at this stop, buddy, two 'door standers' have made their presence known. Didn't you see them take out that old man with their giant bags when he tried to enter? You'll just have to wait until one of them gets off, so relax, really, it could be awhile. They're quite territorial, been known to take off an arm or leg. No really, I saw one chomp on a small child's hand when she wandered too close. Good thing the mother was near-by, the kid only lost two fingers (shake of the head) could've been a lot worse!"

So, if you are one of these people, watch out, I'm going 'a huntin' for some mean 'door standers.' I shall mount their heads above my non-existant fireplace to be admired by all those who have fought, and survived, an encounter.

On another note completely, a friend of mine has just suffered a break up. I feel like the most worthless friend, simply because I don't know what to do. It's not like I haven't been there, and recently. The last two years for me have been the hardest yet. Broken hearts and lonely thoughts, crying so hard I thought I might throw up.

This summer has been a wonderful insight into the person I used to be, and know I still am. I can smile easily, get lost in a book, enough to cry with the charactors, laugh with them, follow their adventures in my mind when I'm out running. I can get out of bed in the morning and look forward to the day. I can curl up on the couch at night and not even consider needing the ragged distraction of smokey voices, beer soaked floorboards, sticky countertops, and a haze of just one more drink. I'm happy with my thoughts now, I can breathe. I even have potential with a truely great man who has the ability to make me smile just with a thought.

I don't know where I'll go from here or where I'll end up, but I've a few wonderful ideas.

I just want that for my friend. I want to tell her everything will be OK, that tomorrow will be better, and the next, and the next, and for it to be the truth. I want to give her a hug, and take away that hurt I see in her eyes. I just don't think a hug is enough, but I know I can't promise tomorrow will be better, and I know I can't take away the hurt.

And it scares me a little.

It reminds me of how I felt for a time. It reminds me how not all the hugs in the world chased away that gloom. I had to chase it away myself, I had to find that small shaft of sunlight and run it down, and you know what? I found a rainbow at the end of that race. Really, I did. I actually ran as far up a mountain as I could and when I looked back, I saw a rainbow out there. Now I'm following the metaphor of that real life rainbow, just to see where it leads.