The boy that never crosses the street

It’s Friday

Around 10 in the morning 

I wash up, comb my hair, brush my teeth

I never make time for breakfast 

By 11 I’m running out the door 

Exchange farewells with my roommates

I dash to the bus to make sure I’m always two minutes late

Upon my arrival, I see this boy standing on the sidewalk 

You’re probably thinking well yeah, people stand on sidewalks. Why do you care?

He was distinct

From the abyss of students, he was peculiar 

Around 6’2 

Black hair

Pale toned

Navy jacket 

Dark denim

He stared at the other side more intently than I could ever stare at him

As I got off the bus, I managed to find a seat outside that wasn’t in his line of sight

I was just as enamored with him as he was with whatever he was staring at

He took a controlled step forward

And then another

He paused

My eyes ensnared his every move

I couldn’t help but wonder about him

Who he was

What is it about him that I find so magnetic 

He manages to end up in the middle of the first lane on the road

His focus only intensified 

Why am I not running to save him?

Why am I more inclined to see how this scenario ends?

He posits himself in the middle of the road

Glances at his shoes

He picks his head up as if mortified 

He waits there

What is he waiting for?

What is he scared of?

He turns away

But before he sets foot on the sidewalk again

He turns his head to the side 

Eyes darting down his shoulder

He never turned back around

He just continued to a casual walking pace

I sat there in awe

No one from the abyss was as stifled as I 

Almost as if I had witnessed something that no one, not even he would have any recollection of

So I sat

Pondered the world I lived in

We have a tendency to do that after a peculiar moment occurs

We can’t understand so we question 

When unanswered we question ourselves 

Who was I to watch him have a moment as intimate as that?

It wasn’t my moment to be reactant of

Maybe that’s why the abyss relished in their own continuance of routine

Expectation

I didn’t walk over to console him

I didn’t warn him of possibly getting hit

I didn’t run after him to ask if he was okay

Nothing

I just sat and stared

What if he didn’t want to be saved

What if he didn't need saving at all

He never crossed the road

Did he see something he wished he hadn’t

The questions were ricocheting across my mind 

Taking me to spaces I shouldn't have been wandering in the first place

Rooms that leave me more complacent than me in that damn seat

“If that was me, I would’ve...”

We always profess about the virtuous thing we would’ve done had we been in futile conditions

When it comes down to it, I don’t think we would

Maybe we could and I’m not dismissing that

It’s just that we overestimate our abilities and underestimate the gruesomeness of situations 

Anxiety and angst begin to fester

Before you know it, your time to act has passed

And you’re left with a mirror image that tells a truth you wince at

He never crossed the road

And I never got out of my seat

Yet the abyss forged on as it always will