On My Own (For Real)

by - August 24, 2013

Yesterday I went on the train ON MY OWN. Like literally me, myself and I (and loads of strangers). Earlier this week I went 50/50 on my own. Forth with my sister and back alone. Well, I thought I was alone. Turns out she hopped in some carriages behind me.

It was horrible and I almost cried (tears were already preparing themselves for a downfall). But when I came home and the day went on like usual, I realized that it wasn't that bad. However, those wise words I'd forgotten in the morning.

Once arrived at the station, I couldn't go back. First because if I don't go, I won't be able to go to school. And it doesn't matter how much I dislike school, I really want to go to school (would be a downright shame of all those books I bought). 
Second because I realize that I can't live my life to the fullest if I sometimes don't do things I'm afraid of. Like about 4 years ago I've been to Paris and it doesn't looks like I'll be there anytime soon again. So isn't it great that I've been pushed by my teachers (it was a school trip and pushed in the sense of "Sorry Dominique, but we really can't leave you here on your own with the hobos and thieves") to go up into the Eiffel Tower. And yes, you've cried hysterically all the way through, making all the other tourists feel uncomfortable, but you did it. And so it has to be the same with trains, right?!?

Right. So I carefully stepped in (causing a piling up behind me), sat down, put some music on, grapped my wool and crocheting needle and made my way. Nothing happened. I carefully stepped out (again causing cluttering) and waited for like an hour. I went to the local market, looked around, realized that I felt utterly uncomfortable (I always go out with someone by my side. No, I'm not really independent. I know) and went back to the station. Missed my train. Waited. Waited some more. And yes, there's the train again, only this time it's very crowded and you can't sit anywhere alone. So I assemble all my courage together and asked if I may could sit down next to a men (his stuff was on the other chair. Don't you just hate that?). He nods. I sit down. He already sits down and now his knee is touching mine and he's trying to make small talk. It's HORRIBLE. I go way left into the chair, trying to avoid any contact, while he's sitting there broad-shouldered, broad-legged and broad-mouthed.

At some point in the journey, the train gets less crowded and seats are getting empty. Now, as a newby, I don't know what to do. Would it be rude to change seats. Would people look at me in disgust (by the way, the men was smelling rather, uhm, remarkable)? I don't know and couldn't take the risk of doing something wrong. So I stayed next to my unfortunate companion, hoping he would get out anytime soon. But he didn't. The train filled again and there was no way out. Or that's what I thought. We've arrived at my end destination, oh holy mercy! I stand up, trying not to harm anyone with my bag (it's a small place and a big bag) and made my way to the exit. He also stands up, but I know we probably won't see eachother ever again, so I don't mind (well, I did a bit). I stepped out (you know the drill), searched my bike and rode away. It wasn't that bad. Monday again?

But now to the important part: What did I wear? 


Shirt: Action/ Skirt: Thrift Store/ Necklace: Versteeg/ Belt: H&M/ Shoes: Primark/ Socks: Zeeman

Love,
Dominique

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