I watched the late train go by and felt envious of strangers

Dear Delyara, I was waiting at the crossing in the car when it passed, full of lit windows and other people’s anonymous lives. For a second I felt this sharp, embarrassing longing — not to be one of them exactly, but to be moving toward somewhere that did not already know everything about me. Somewhere with no school app, no dinner to think about, no old argument under the skin, no shopping list, no one calling Mum from upstairs while I was trying to become a person again after work. The feeling passed quickly. It still told the truth. Sometimes what I want is not a different life. Just one evening outside the emotional architecture of my own.