The 149 Bus Moving Against the Flow

Dear Delyara, I spent my Saturday evening sitting on the lower deck of the 149 bus, heading into the city for my night shift while the entire world was moving in the opposite direction. The carriage was full of people who were dressed for dinner, laughing, sharing headphones, and leaning into each other with that warm comfort that belongs to people who have a place in the social fabric. I sat by the window in my black uniform, looking at my own reflection against the dark streets, feeling a hot, bitter resentment rising in my throat. Why do I have to guard their peace while mine is completely broken?