Bus Stop.

I went out to the bus stop 5 minutes early; just to make sure I didn’t miss it. I was standing out in the cold, waiting. There were about ten other people out there, waiting. 8:25. It was probably the coldest day of true winter we’d had yet. I had earlier decided to forego my fleece liner, because it was a hassle to get on and get comfortable underneath my winter coat. After all, it was only going to be a 4 or 5 minute wait until I was surrounded by the warmth of the trusty, dependable 404. 5 or 6 minutes pass slowly, letting the cold seep in through the clothes, the layers, finding a home for itself in my bones. I tried some ‘mind-over-matter’ for a while, but decided instead that I kinda liked shivering. I also couldn’t be bothered to dig my mitts and toque out of the bottom of my bag, so I jammed my hands in my pockets, pulled up my hood and zipped everything all the way up. 10 minutes have gone by and the bus isn’t around. Is it getting colder or is it just me? I assure myself of the bus’ imminent arrival, knowing that it must be there soon. I decide to make the bus stop my personal off-leash park and let my mind wander at will. At the very least I may be able to keep it from dwelling on the only thing it seems to know, currently, the cold. Immediately my thoughts drift to Jennie. It seems that any time I let my mind wander it ends up there. Jennie is my girlfriend. She is a righteous babe. Jennie is one of those girls who inspires poetry and lyrics of vastly romantic proportions. She’s a girl that comes along but once in a lifetime filled with ill-advised endeavors and wrought with mistaken loves. Damn, it’s cold. Ok, so that’s not working anymore. It is bitterly cold. The kind of cold that seems to suck the heat out from you, and even denies the existence of heat at all. I can’t recall a point in time when I was warm. I don’t think I even know what warmth is anymore. Even the word ‘warm’ simply become meaningless, bringing with it a vast emptiness, void of any memories or feelings. This sucks. It’s so cold. Somehow 20 minutes have passed without a bus coming. By this time I look around to observe that the ten other people have long since wised up and gone into the bus shelter nearby. Not me, though. I consider the possibility of going inside to get warm, but like I said, getting ‘warm’ isn’t that tempting when you don’t even know what it means. Plus, I was starting to think of waiting for this bus as some sort of challenge and I couldn’t back down now. All of the people watching from the bus shelter as I brave the weather alone would be disappointed. I imagine them cheering me on, taking bets as to how long I would last before going to join them in their bliss. I cannot give in now. I’ve come too far to simply give up. I stamp my feet (painfully), wiggle my toes (I think), clench my fists (as tight as a newborn grasping one’s pinky), and blow sideways into my hood. I’ve fortified myself and I’m settling in for the Unending Night of Winter. At a certain point, about 20 minutes later, I think about killing myself. But the bus comes.