numb from the cold again

it’s been two minute since the the train should have gotten here, but it hasn't. The man next to me was lost in his phone, approximately five meters underground with all the constant scrolls. Somehow, without a phone in my hand, I felt right there with him, not from scrolling, but from the weight I've been carrying in my chest. It's been a week, more or less. since what? I don't even really know. Some days I do. but today, all I know is that my thighs are cold - it's winter.

The train pulled into the station at last. The man next to me gave me a weird look as he got up. I didn't realise I had been staring. I wondered if I made him uncomfortable, and with that thought I suddenly realised I really hoped I did.

I've been having strange thoughts lately. I look at other women in the metro and I wonder if they carry this weight too. Old women, young women, white women, Arab women, black women, Asian women. little girls. The other day I zoned out really hard near the entrance to a kindergarten. The way all these men seem normal, well-meaning, even kind. these dads. wives with weights they keep hidden, and husbands with secrets they aren't even aware of.

A young man ran into my train compartment just in time for the doors. Somehow that pulled me back into the present moment, and I was met with the realisation that the train was slowly pulling out of the station that was in fact mine. There was nothing I could do. I just stared out of the window for three painfully long minutes. until finally, the train came to a stop. The doors opened, and as I stepped onto the platform, I felt my legs tremble slightly. Numb from the cold again.