I thought about how you told me that trains ran over animals such as llamas. We were both ten, not quite in like yet. Wrapping my rainbow cardigan around me, I thought "Hah, we haven't encountered any bloody creatures yet" and felt foolish for keeping that thought in my pocket for so long. You lied to me about llamas getting run over so perhaps I lied to you about being in love.

I was sitting in a train full of strangers with only a destination in common- attending my aunt's wedding and possibly catching a glimpse of true love in front row seats. Maybe then I'll decide whether we're in love- or if you're just holding my heart and waiting for someone better to come along.

I decided that I needed coffee to calm my anxiety, so I got up and made my way to the coffee machine.

"You haven't written back yet," a boy spoke to me. He reminded me of you, because you two had the same eyelashes, the pair I always teased you about because you were a boy. I was always secretly jealous of them.

I laughed, "I don't know you, that's impossible."

"Exactly, but it's a long ride, maybe you'll know me by the time it's over," he stirred his drink rhythmically. Perhaps in the shape of a flower.

Curious, I sat down in the seat in front of him. I focused my attention on the tea he was drinking. I was starting to think that he was your long lost brother because you always drank tea, never coffee. You said coffee was for the weak but always told me that I was unbreakable. I drank black coffee- I never understood what you meant by that.

"What's your name?" he inquired.

"Sarah," I replied.

"Benjamin. If you don't mind me asking, who's making you walk around with a paper bag over your head?" Benjamin asked me.

I raised my hand to touch my hair, "I'm not," I said bluntly.

"You might as well be, hiding your face behind your hair and wearing glasses like that," he pointed out.

I defensively pushed my glasses up. You told me that glasses made me look sophisticated. Or I just didn't realize that you preferred to be seen with someone who at least seemed somewhat intelligent. I took my glasses off and folded them.

"Can you define impossible for me?" I asked.

"Impossible is catching all the rain with only one coffee cup," Benjamin stated.

You would never run around and catch falling rain with me because you were too practical. I reminded myself to tell you that our relationship was impossible, like splashing in puddles with a cup in hand portraying psychotic behaviour but feeling alive because of it.

I scribbled my number on a piece of paper and said, "Maybe we can build a rocket sometime and fly to Saturn or something ridiculous like that."

He nodded.

I think I would like my heart back.