I'm writing this on the train home - the latest night train I've ever taken in Adelaide, I think. Back when I lived along one of the train lines it was one that stopped running at midnight, but this line goes until 1:30am, and there's only one service left after this one.
I tend to cycle everywhere now, since moving out, and the freedom is nice but I kind of miss this feeling. The slightly chemical smell, the burning in my lungs from a brisk walk up the hill carrying my heavy bag, the truly disgusting fluorescents overhead and the grating drone of the engine is a cacophony that drowns out all of the struggles of the day. A period appropriate Taylor Swift album completes the recreation.
The last time I did this regularly, I was kind of torn in between two different lives - get up at 6:30, get to work by 8, work through until 5, then get the train into the city where my real life started. Tabletop games from 6 until 10, then hanging out in the city with loved ones until the relentless march of time demanded otherwise. The last train leaves at 12 past 12, but my father would always be annoyed if I missed the 11:42 (he was annoyed frequently). Home by 12:45, in bed at 1, wake up in 5.5 hours to do it again. Three nights a week and I used to wish I could to it the other four as well.
The deja vu started earlier this evening, honestly. It spiked sitting in a car at 12:30, watching someone set an alarm for 7:15. I don't think I regret that moment - I don't think it's mine to regret - but I've done this to myself enough to not worry about doing it to others.
Off the train now. I guess they lock the train station up before the trains stop running, because I had to take the lift out. Never been in that lift before.
I always felt bad leaving people in the city at midnight, abandoned to find their own public transport home. My partner has since claimed that actually she loved this part, in its own way. I guess I can kind of vibe it?
I probably should have just gotten an uber home, but it was annoyingly expensive and I wanted the forced time alone to think. This isn't really new; I couldn't count the number of times I got on the train home crying, or left someone crying at the station, because as much as it felt like a shitty thing to do, missing that last train would have made everything so much worse. I think the journey this time is kind of healing, in its own way - leaving when loved ones needed me hurt, and it’s only right that I should come back and rebuild the experience on the way home from trying to help people I care about feel better.
Folklore has such a specific emotional and relationship context in my heart; romantically but also more broadly. I miss the simplicity of the time, but at the same time I wouldn't give up anything I've found since. That said, it would be nice to have some of those old friendships again; maybe I should take another go at rebuilding those bridges. It's been a little while.
One difference tonight - now I'm back to the office, the last leg of my journey is by bike, so I can't really write much more. I'll be home after 2 at this point, but I'm not sure when to set my alarm for in the morning. Part of me wants to go for 7:15, in solidarity. We'll see how I feel when I get home.
Good night :)
