There I was sitting on a Greyhound waiting for it to pull away.  I could not wait to leave this rotten dump of a city.  I had spent the last six years here, four of those at Bard College.  The remaining two years were spent having my soul slowly sucked through a purple silly straw by my girlfriend and the various writing critics around the city.  Not that I'm bitter.  Oh no. I just enjoyed my soul when I had one and was anxious to get it back.  Therefore, I declared the rotten city the victor and was on my way back to the cozy confines of the Midwest.

   The bus was full.  Well, full except for one empty seat next to yours truly.  I heard a loud, angry voice board the bus.  I see a girl boarding the bus and she is carrying several bags, her purse, and trying to have an argument on her cell phone.  I thought, "Awesome!"  As she is yelling into her phone and making her way back my area, I derive my first impression of her.  She is wearing jeans, a T-shirt, a big heavy coat with fake fur on the collar, a goofy hat, and some jogging shoes.  She is not put together at all.  She may have either slept in these clothes or at least pulled them from the bottom of the laundry basket.  It didn't matter.  She was not there to impress us.  She was on a mission.  My ex-girlfriend would not be caught dead out in public without 2 hours of prep work and she still never had the confidence this girl was bringing to the bus. 

   She barges her way past me bumping into me as if I were not there. She plops down in her seat.  I can see her eyes and facial expressions readying for her turn to yell into the phone.  That time comes and she spits back, "You're sorry?  That's the best you can do?  Why don't you go find one of your skanky girlfriends and get fucked? YOU BASTARD!"  She flips the phone closed and tries to throw it in her purse.  However, it misses and lands on my lap.  She looks at me.  I hand the phone back and say, "Wrong number?"  I wait for her to laugh or at least giggle.  She stares at me for another second, takes the phone, turns to stare out the window, and cries.  I thought to myself, "Smooth Roman...real smooth."  I had my problems and she had hers.  I figured it would probably be a quiet ride.  The bus pulled away.

   After an hour of riding, my seat mate finally pulls her head away from the window.  Her eyes were red from crying.  She looks at me and says, "Sorry for the drama.  I'm just in a really shitty place right now."  I said, "No problem.  I am in a shitty spot too.  I shouldn't have made the stupid joke.  I knew you were upset."  She said, "It's fine.  I'm just glad we're away from that stupid city."  I agreed.  She introduced herself, "I'm Lindsay."  I said, "Nice to know you Lindsay.  I'm Roman."

   We began chatting a bit.  I learned her boyfriend of 6 years had been cheating on her and was generally treating her like shit.  I told her how my girlfriend of 5 years decided to dump me because I wasn't as successful as her girlfriend's significant others.  They were doctors, lawyers, and stockbrokers.  I was a struggling writer spewing out crap articles for free publications, while working on a novel.  I was not good for her public image.  Lindsay sympathized with me.  She said she was an artist as well and her boyfriend didn't respect anything she did.  She told me a story how one time she reproduced his favorite album cover into a large painting and gave it to him for his birthday.  He thanked her by saying, "That's great baby.  Now let's go fuck."  I said, "He sounds wonderful.  Why did you put up with him?"  She sheepishly replied, "He was gorgeous and he treated me like shit.  You know, true love."  I laughed, but I totally related.  We continued talking.

    We had a lot in common.  We both love the same crappy music.  We loved the same obscure movies and television shows.  We both loved art, literature, and philosophy.  We never had a silent moment.  I never had a boring bus ride go by so quickly.  We stopped in some small town in Ohio for dinner.  The rest of the bus unloaded and headed to the restaurant to feed.  Lindsay and I stayed put.  We continued talking.  I found out she was headed back to Iowa to stay with her mom.  I told her I was going to Indiana to live with my brother.  We both needed time to heal.  We were both broken and we knew it.  The people got back on the bus and we were off again.  The time was going by so quickly.  Lindsay and I laughed and told more stories as we rolled through the night.

   Before I knew it, we were in Indiana.  I knew I would have to leave her soon.  She noticed too. There was some silence for the first time between us.  It wasn't awkward silence, but the kind you have when you have so much to say that nothing comes out.  We exchanged numbers and e-mails and promised to keep in touch.  Maybe we would, maybe we wouldn't.  We had connected though and it was wonderful.  She grabbed my hand and squeezed it.  She said, "Thanks for listening and sharing Roman."  I said, "Thank you Lindsay.  You are a very special girl.  I am so glad to have met you."  She agreed and we sat looking at each other.  I looked into her beautiful eyes and grinned.  She asked, "What are you looking at?  Do I have something in my eye?"  I said, "Yeah, I think you do."  She said sweetly, "What is it?"  I said, "My soul."  She smiled and squeezed my hand tighter.