I lock eyes with the old lady on the subway. They beam the same deep blue as the cold sky outside, and have this powerful calm, like waves patiently shaping the rocky coast of my dark brown gaze.
They are so sharp that they cut the busy air around us into this random moment of shared defiance against made up urban walls, and inside, we see each other bare.
She has fallen madly in love, had her heart broken, and broken some. Received the best news on the phone—and the worst. Hurt people in ways they could forgive, but never forget. Laughed until she couldn’t breathe anymore, and met with many for the last time, without knowing. Lived many different lives.
Me too. But she has more, way more. Inside.
In that brief moment, no clocks ticked, and there was no one else, nothing else, and our eyes settled on a deep agreement.
“There’s no tomorrow. You have to do it now.”