Sat at the train station having said my goodbyes, only then did it start to sink in that I was actually going back to face the music. The long nights of endless essay writing, hopeless exam revision and generally trying to deal with life. And I'm sat there.
I look around to other people with their suitcases. Like me, they're stood around expressionless, just staring quietly towards the other platform. A part of me wonders about their back-stories. Here we are, a group of strangers connected by the 11.19 from Newark Northgate, and yet we all have our stories to tell.
Where are their journeys taking them? Did they have an emotional embrace when they arrived at the station, or was it a casual goodbye? When they set foot on the train, will it be felt with relief or indifference? Everyone has their own back story and for the most part their stories are left untapped. I bet if you unpicked the story of every person standing on the platform you would find a brilliant story in there somewhere. People are more fascinating than they give themselves credit for.
Like much of what I write, I'm not really going anywhere with this. I guess it makes me realise I'm not the only person with problems. Everyone on that platform will have had a trauma in their life, and no matter how low you're feeling, someone else will have felt something similar, they may even be feeling it now. All of these people will have had an achievement of sorts in their life too. There are so many spectacular people in our world that don't even know it. At that moment it made me happy that I had those ambitions to be spectacular. I was just another insignificant person stood at the train station, yet I still felt I could be more. Ambition is one of the more important assets we can own.
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