End of a long day. It probably was made to feel long by the fact that I was in transit, in the snow, for as long as I was in any one place. I was part of the height of the morning subway traffic. As I waited to get on the F train I just thought, there are so many people.
People getting on and off. People sleeping on the train. People getting ready to get off. People checking their phones, reading books, talking to a friend (that early in the morning? are they roommates? do they travel to work together?) Couples sitting speaking in English, Spanish, languages that I couldn't place. A woman with her baby carriage. A guys studying some notes. People with headphones, some playing music far too loud. Putting on mascara. Staring blankly into space, people watching.
So many people. If you start to think about it, it can drive you nuts. Where are they going? Where did they come from? How are they today? What's their family like? So many different people, from all walks of life, and yet we all ride the subway. We're all part of the rush at some point no matter where you are going.
People going through breakups, crushes, falling in love, having fights, getting married. Feeling lonely. Feeling on top of the world. We could go on and on this way, and maybe realize that we are all of those on any given day.
My dad had a very good friend who said "Your problems are not unique. You are." On the one hand, I think we like to think that our problems and experiences are singular. No one has ever felt, done, lived, fought, loved, worked as you do. I would say you're right. Not because the person next to you could not empathize with a moment in your life, but because in the moment you were you. You were where you are coming from, you are all of your experiences leading up to that moment.
So many people. All riding the subway. All unique. Pretty neat.