The trainride

I just broke up with my boyfriend. At the Amsterdam Central train station. The station was empty and we just broke from our long embrace. It was completely unplanned.

“I just don’t see a long distance relationship working out,” I said.

He did not say much other than that he wished that I had told him sooner. He wouldn’t have dropped me off at the station then. I knew that he would say something like that. Our relationship was never about loving each other. We weren’t together because we wanted to be together, we were together because we wanted to be lonely together.

“I also wanted to break up with you, I am actually already seeing someone else.”

“I guess it was mutual then,” I said, not understanding why he was getting so defensive. It was as if he wanted to rub it in my face. We were always each other’s second option. It was a casual arrangement. We always dated other people freely and that was the norm. So I knew that he was trying to hurt me.

I was indifferent to that.

That was about an hour ago.

Now I am staring out of the window in the direct train to Berlin, the world is grey and covered in snow. It’s almost beautiful. The good thing is that I am alone in a cabin that could seat four people. I could consider myself very lucky, but I won’t dwell on it for too long. I guess not many people want to go to Berlin in the middle of the winter. I see trees, trees, field, small village and then again. It’s a peaceful sight, boring, beautiful and peaceful is all I want anyway.

Suddenly I hear a melody. It’s one of these cheesy melodies in those Hallmark films. It’s played outside of my cabin. I step out into the corridor to look and it’s an old man surrounded by other passengers. He’s playing a weird contraption that looks like a xylophone. It amuses me for a minute or two. I return to my cabin where the overhead light is blinding me. It seems to have gotten a lot brighter. I rub my eyes. When I open them again, to my biggest shock and disappointment I see a man sitting in my cabin. He’s reading a book. I stand frozen.

“You weren’t here the first hour of the ride, is that your seat?” He looks up at me. Smiling.

“I am sorry, I was sitting in the wrong cabin. The conductor just moved me to the right one.” I sit down carefully. He shows me his ticket. And I calm down.

“I looked too quickly at my ticket. My name is Johannes. Sometimes I am not good with numbers.” He sticks out his hand. I can now read the title of his book. “Sustainable practices for candle making”. I laugh within myself and shake his hand. Strong and firm.

“My name is Jada.” I let go of his hand.

He laughs after I say my name.

“What’s funny, Johannes?”

He shakes his head. “No reason really, it’s just that our names both start with a J.”

I don’t know how to answer that. I laugh a fake laugh with him. Completely uncharacteristic of me. I never grant anyone a fake laugh. It just kind of happened.

“What are you going to do in Berlin, a vacation?”

I am thinking of a vague answer. “I am starting a new job on Monday. I am very sorry, but I am very tired.” This isn’t a lie. I was awake all night. He grabs something out of his backpack. A packet. He hands it to me. It’s an inflatable neck pillow.

I try to return it to him. “I can’t possibly take this, Johannes.”

He shakes his head. He reveals he has more neck pillows in his backpack. “The company which I work for got a boatload of them from our last client.”

I know all about it. At one time I had so many Blast energy drink cans gathering dust in my house that I had to take a sabbatical from drinking coffee. I smile gratefully at Johannes.

“The pillows are very comfortable. I use mine religiously. Even in the bus for just one hour.”

I study the package. It looks very familiar to me. It’s as if I have already seen this before. I just can’t put my finger on it. When have I seen this?

“You don’t like it.” Johannes looks almost disappointed.

I shake my head. “It’s just that I have seen this before but I don’t remember when. Or where.”

He shrugs. Of course he does. How would he know where I have seen this before?

“I don’t think this product is really popular yet outside of Germany.” He opens his book again.

I open the package. And start blowing into it. It doesn’t really work.

He looks up from his book. With a smile. The music in the corridor is playing louder.

“You have to hold the plastic valve in. Common mistake.”

I hold it in and this time I can inflate the pillow. “Thank you!”

I put the pillow around my neck and I’ll be damned. This pillow is actually very comfortable. I almost immediately doze off.

The dream I have is very weird. I am walking in this very long corridor. My aim is to open a door. I just feel it in my dream. When I reach the door I suddenly see two men. They are fighting to hold the door open for me. They are pushing each other away from the doorhandle. I try to bypass them and open the door myself. Then they’re pushing each other shoulder to shoulder. The fight is becoming more physical. They accidentally push me. I stumble backwards. I notice the ground cascading and a railing materialising behind me. I hit the railing. I try not to fall to my death. They try to rescue me from falling off the railing. However, that is also a fight. They hit each other’s hands away and I eventually fall.

The fall is long. I look at them both looking at me. I am screaming and screaming. Around me there are falling rose petals. I look at them. I try to catch one. Surprisingly, I don’t fall to my death. I land softly on a bed of roses. The room is an infinite room, with roses hanging from the ceiling and mirrors on each wall. I can’t get up myself. I try to sit up. It’s like I am in a pool, but I can’t swim. I am not drowning, I am floating.

A gentleman dressed in a tuxedo walks up to me and lifts me off the bed. He whispers things in my ear I can’t understand. I am still utterly in shock. And confused. The infinity room changes into a kitchen. He sits me down on a chair, and gives me a coffee. I smell the coffee. Then I wake up. Next to me there is a coffee, hot chocolate, a croissant, a small bag of chips and a water.

Johannes looks up from his book. “I got you some things,” he tells me.

I squint my eyes. “Why did you get me all this, Johannes?”

He laughs. “Well you told me you were tired. And you immediately fell asleep. So when the lady came I decided to buy you a coffee. Your stomach was rumbling, so snacks as well. I didn’t know if your vibe is sweet or salty. Lastly I noticed that your water bottle was basically empty, so I got you a water.” My mouth falls open. I don’t know how to respond to this. Or to trust any of this. But sometimes I really just don’t think.

So I say: “Thank you, Johannes.” I take a sip of my coffee. And sigh in relief, not because of its life force. But because of the indifference of Johannes. He couldn’t have put something inside of my coffee and remain that calm, right? Me accepting a coffee from a strange man is so unlike me.

My phone is buzzing. My new landlord in the notifications. The first words make my heart sink: I am sorry to inform you that…

I can’t read the full message as it’s cut off and my mind immediately goes to the worst case scenario. I am homeless the morning I move to Berlin.

It took me months to find a place. I was living in Berlin in hotel rooms and crashed at my friends’ houses. This apartment was one of the few I was allowed to view. It was perfect and almost too good to be true. He can’t tell me the morning of my arrival that I can’t move in. I am afraid to find out the truth. My heart is beating in my throat as I open the message. A quick glance and I immediately let out a deep sigh of relief. It’s not the best news. My landlord let me know that my apartment has flooded, but I am still allowed to move in, in three days. He has arranged a hotel, for the inconvenience. It’s not the greatest scenario, but it could have been worse. It’s weird that my landlord would book me a hotel room, but I don’t have the strength to ponder upon that. I look at the address of the hotel and make a mental note of it. I am too tired to plan my trip from the train station.

I am staring out of my window, listening to my playlist. “Thank you for this coffee, Johannes.” I repeat.

“It was nothing.” He smiles humbly.

He doesn’t know that without this coffee at six in this wintery morning I would barely be able to function. Let alone find a hotel not on the itinerary. I just smile back at him. And put my headphones on. It’s a random playlist on shuffle and they’re all sappy love song. After seven skips I give up fighting with it. After 45 minutes Johannes gestures for me to pack my bag. I nod and smile gratefully as I forgot to keep track of the time.

We pack our stuff and walk into the corridor. The other passengers are pushing Johannes and me against each other. “I’m so sorry,” he says.

I look back. we’re so close and I smile to him politely. “The train is just way more full than I thought. It’s not your fault.” Jesus what’s happening here. After five minutes we finally make it outside on the platform. Out of this awkward situation.

“Thank you for everything. See you around.” It falls out of my mouth a bit too… needy. He shakes his head smiling.

“It was nice to meet you. I’ll see you around.” He then disappears into the crowd.