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Jean Kirschstein stands half-hidden behind one of the large pillars that dominated the main entrance to the train station. Irritated commuters brushed by the two-toned brunette, mystified as to why he remained stagnant when everyone else flashed by.

Could it be?

The tentative male steps forward, craning his neck towards a cluster of benches located several yards from the second platform. There, a young woman and her two companions chat animatedly, suitcases in tow, not a care to be dwelled upon.

His eyes rest on the tallest of the three. Her easy-going nature, elegant stature; even the hair color was the same, although the length was longer than he remembered...it felt like forever since he last saw you.

How long has it been? Jean couldn’t recount. Time had sunk in on itself; an endless rollercoaster ride of hope and despair.

The digital sign overhead scrolled aggressively with the latest announcement: ARRIVING 5 MIN. TRAIN 1805. PLATFORM 2.

Jean blinks in anticipation. He knew he would never get the chance to meet you like this again. His heart beating with each step, the apprehensive lover slipped across the granite tile of the station.

The words were out before he could stop himself.

“Hey, __________.” Hearing the familiar tenor, conversation between you and your friends dropped off immediately. All three heads turn toward the speaker, surprise registered thoroughly on each face.

“Jean? Is that really you?” You smile awkwardly, embarrassed by such an obvious statement.

“Yeah...it’s me,” he returns just as awkwardly. “How-how have you been?” Your friends give you a meaningful glance but you brush them off and take Jean by the hand, gently moving out of earshot.

“I’ve been okay, you?”

“As well as one would imagine.” Jean bit his lip at the crassness of his answer. He didn’t even know what he meant by that.

Was he okay? In the general sense of things, yes. Was he over you? Hell, no.

“That’s good to hear, I guess.” Again, Jean felt like kicking himself. This was not the way he had envisioned things going and he didn't want to waste this precious opportunity.

“Listen, Jean, it was good seeing you, but my train is arriving soon and –- ” The restrained male suddenly takes hold of your hands, encapsulating them in his.

“__________. I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a long time now and a phone call or text just wouldn’t do it.” He stands straighter, locking his gaze with yours. “Since I lost you, I lost myself. Some days I make it through and then…and then…there’s nights that never end. Nights I’m thinking of you, of us, of what went wrong.” Jean pauses, taking a deep breath. “Even still, I want nothing but the best for you. Part of me wishes I could believe that means you coming back to me, but after seeing you now, all happy and glowing, I won’t wish that anymore.”

Jean’s confession took you completely unaware. You had no idea this was how he felt or what he had been going through, and part of you ached for him, knowing you were the cause of his present pain.

"I just want you to know..." Before you could respond, Jean turns and walks away, an exact replica of yourself the day you left. The sound of the whistle resonates in all corners of the station, the loud trill bringing Jean out of his reverie.

Calmly the lone devotee watches Train 1805 pull slowly out of the station. He then picks up his bag and moves to Platform 5 feeling somewhat lighter than before. Even though he hadn’t had the resolution to say the words to you in person, he still felt like he was one step closer to moving on.