The Face of Jen

Late home commuter walking my way, when I saw your face through a shop window. A face at first I couldn’t place. A face I had not seen in almost 6 years, who is this familiar person. I didn’t have a name until I had already passed you by. Jen. The face of Jen, I hadn’t forgotten of your existence but you haven’t crossed my mind in the longest time. A distant memory from a life I no longer lead. Embarrassed by my current living state, I’m not sure I would have even stopped to say hello if I had the chance. I turned up the speed of my walking pace and turned my head away, looking for another destination. Hoping your eyes didn’t clock the sight of my figure. Did you leave town? Why did you come back? I thought I still followed you on social media but I can’t remember your handle. Going down my follow list, I now sat on the stationed train. “This is your 19:25 train to Crystal Palace, calling at…” I must have unfollowed you, or maybe you deactivated your account. Why would you do that? Did you want to start your life over again? Wanted to go into hiding, never to be found by people of your past. I sometimes wish I could do that, I know I would miss my family too much. Or the guilt of them missing me would drive me back to reality. I’m not good at communicating or keeping up with people so maybe I am half there to disappearing. For the whole hour-and-a-half commute home, I could not find your name within my brain. Wishing I’d memorised your face a little longer so my memories were as accurate as possible..