Monday, June 30, 2014

An Unexpected Hand

Currently, I am sitting on my balcony, wearing a snuggie, smoking a cig, listening to music to drown out the couple across the street fighting and I have a belly full of ice cream.

It's 2:30 am.

...Today was a day.

Today was one of those days where everything you have been struggling with, everything thats just kicking you in the just sitting heavily on top of your heart like a lump of ice.

You know those days? I said I just ate ice cream at 2:30am.

I was sitting on the train tonight and my thoughts were racing, screaming and doing their damnedest to make my already heavy heart... heavier.

So I popped my headphones in and I closed my eyes and I focused on the music. I could feel my eyebrows furrow in an attempt to aid in the calming process and then one of my favorite songs came on my shuffle and I could feel escape in my near future.


Just as I started to relax all of the sudden there was this loud voice filling the train car.

A homeless man.


My breathing moved into my chest and became short. I was pissed. My patience was ever so fleeting.

I sat there and stewed. No matter how great the song was I was listening to, all I could do is sit there and be angry. Angry that this asshole thinks his life is hard. That he suffers more than anyone on that train and that I owe him my attention and my money.


I turned my volume all the way up.

He continued,,,,

I refused to take out my earbuds and give him the time of day because I was busy listening to a sad song and taking a bath in my emotions. I was tired of always being the one who digs in my purse for cash, who gives their lunch away, who is the Good Samaritan.

I wanted to be left alone.

I closed my eyes and my brow furrowed again.

The voice got louder. He was getting closer.

I opened my eyes ready to just scream at him and just as I opened them, he looked at me directly...and he smiled.


No. No, that's not what was supposed to happen.

What was supposed to happen was I would open my eyes and look annoyed at him and he was supposed to look at me like I was a spoiled, selfish, privileged asshole.

That's how that works.

But he smiled at me. A sweet smile. A nonthreatening and friendly smile.

I turned down my music and decided that his smile bought him my attention.

As the song faded this aggressively loud homeless voice became more clear.

"Love each other. We're all the same. I am homeless. You are not. But we still love. We still can do good."


No. No, that's not what is supposed to happen.

What was supposed to happen was that I would silence my music and I would hear a tragic story and forget about what I was dealing with and give him whatever he was asking for be it pennies, nickels or dimes...

That's how that works.

But that's not what happened.

This smiling, homeless man with a loud aggressive voice melted the lump in my heart in a matter of seconds.

I couldn't take my eyes off of him as he crept past me and through the train car and every word he yelled was all I wanted to hear.

Before I knew it, I felt the tears I have been holding back for days slowly and quietly stream down my face with every kind, thoughtful reminder he shared.

I opened my purse and I pulled out the $5 I was planning spend on an overpriced water on my way home and I walked up to him and I placed it in his hand.

"Thank you, darling. You are loved."

We shared a smile and I sat back down.


As I walked home I started to laugh to myself.

I mean, what the hell?

I got home and told my roommate what had just happened. I told her about all of the horse shit poisoning my thoughts and weighing on my heart. I curled up in the fetal position on my kitchen floor and we laughed. Hard.

Then we got ice cream.

At 2:30 am.

And as I sit here on my balcony, in my snuggie, out of cigarettes and still full from ice cream...I don't feel so bad. Because I can still love. I still know things are not that bad. I still know that everyone has heavy heart days. I still know that I will do good. And I still know, that I can always laugh.

Those homeless men just really do it for me...

No comments:

Post a Comment