A Successful Day
© Copyright 2019 by Laura Labno
In the light of the significance of love every other significance fades away - This thought seemed significant to her.
It was being played out, over and over again – She could hear it in the sound of the Welsh rain hitting the bus windows, it was being sung out by the melancholy of the grey street the bus was drifting through, it was resounding in the sound of the rushing cars. It was being played out by her own breath and by the sound of the bus she was sitting in – Such a particular sound, the kind only buses can give, of course – She laughed.
A successful day – that’s what it was – A successful day.
Her life was generally successful, anyway. Filled with struggle, hard work and sadness but, after all, everything was turning out fine, at last. She had friends who loved her, she had a dad who loved her, she lived in a country she’s chosen to live in and studied at a University she’s chosen to study at. She was getting very good grades and was liked by most people. She could draw, play guitar and sing and people were constantly saying she was pretty. She was finding it hard to believe it, of course - children told her so many times that she was ugly when she was little. Why would they say it if she was pretty? But people were saying that anyway and it was making her feel good, even if embarrassed at the same time – Embarrassed that she would even care.
And now she was sitting in the bus, bus number 5C. And it was raining. And she just got a job that she wanted to get – She was supposed to become a homecare assistant now. She was finally going to do something what would help other people and what was, at the same time, somehow relevant to the degree she was doing.
Some sort of joy has arisen in her heart, some sort of pride. She looked through the window – The view of the little welsh houses, the mountains and the melancholic welsh fields was calmly smiling at her from distance. And she smiled back.
But then, what was it? Something not quite as joyful was slipping through that smile as well. Could it be sadness? How could it?
Bitter and grey like the sky on that day. Or perhaps more…. sick blue like the sea.
Sick blue, that’s what it was. Sick blue sadness was slipping through her smile and she wondered whether the houses and the mountains and the fields would notice it? Would they be judgemental?
So many blessings she has received. So many.
It was the melody, of course, the familiar song resounding in everything around her that was making her feel that way.
He did not Love her. He loved somebody else.
The significance of all the blessings she’s received should out-weight this little truth. But since in the light of the significance of love every other significance fades away – It just somehow