I’m writing this while waiting for the bus here in the bus station. I wanted to write about this place, and I guess today’s that day. And why about a place like this? Because it brings me a lot of memories and, apart from that, I’ve always liked to sit and watch the different kinds of people that comes here, going up and down anywhere. It’s a busy place, but full of life. I used to take here the bus back home after shcool everyday, but now I barely come. This station is different now and I think it was reformed some years ago, but most of the shops and things stay as always. That’s a good thing about this place, it doesn’t change, and if it does, just a little bit. So I think that is also the reason why it brings me all those memories.

When I was like fifteen, once school finished, I came down here fron the top part of the city with two schoolmates. They weren’t really my friends (I’ve always been a lonely person, but I’m ok with this) although we had great times together while walking down here. Then we sat to wait the bus, bought some sweets and had a laugh at the teachers. I must admit I miss that time, so far now that it seems to have happened in another life.

In the other side of thr station, in the left, there’s the place where one day while sitting with some girls from my old school, we started an argument about a teen fad of that days and, as I hated all those fool things, said I didn’t like it at all, so that one of the other girls faced me and told me that she hated me because I was a bland. Back then I was so insecure that the only thing I could do was swallow my hurt pride and ducked my head, but, luckily, one of the schoolmates with whom I used to go everyday defended me. Those words pained me and that’s why I still remember that old story.

And, finally, this was the place where I used to wave goodbye to the first boy I fell in love with, I guess at thirteen or fourteen, and stayed in love with him for some years.  Then I was so innocent to walk with my heart in my hands. I never was with him, and barely talked. It was most of a platonic love because I knew I was too young to manage to love someone. But that love was pure and I miss I could love someone again like that, I wish -and I guess all adult people do- I could go back to the time when I could believe in everything and trust everybody to the point of be able to give them my heart fearless. But that love passed and now almost nothing of it remains.. I’ve never seen this boy. But after all and over the years, I still remember him and wonder how life has been for him, if he is married, if he has children, a good job… If he is happy and how life would have been for me if I’d had the opportunity to share my life with him, a life I dream with many nights. So, he came to the station everyday too and when I saw him here, I said goodbye to him with my best and most lovely smile, and he used to laughed. I know if I met him again, I would fall in love again, because as he was a kind of first love, he’ll always have a place in my heart.

Well, this post is too long now, so I’m gonna finish it and keep waiting for the bus. It’s incredible how we feel linked to some places…


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