The Bus People

It was a strange happenstance today that the bus was late. There were plenty of people waiting, and my headphones were well placed over my ears. I'd been moving around to breathe, as I'm asthmatic and can't have any smoke coming my way.

A light tap on my shoulder caused me to slip the music to my neck and turn. There was a girl there, and she had a bag with Tim Horton's cookies. She offered me one, and although I wasn't afraid of the physical safety of the cookie, I declined because I try to lead a vegan lifestyle.

We got to talking because of my choice in diet and I learned through this course of speaking that she was a person who suffered from a lack of self esteem and depression.

I shared with her my stories, how bad everything got for me, and how I got out of it, at least in part. I told her that sometimes it's hard to change yourself, but sometimes it's what is needed in order to be happier.

Sometimes, the parts of your life that cause sadness are the biggest parts - your friends, your family, your role models. And then when you can't talk to any of them, you need a bus person. Or the bar person. Sometimes you need to talk to someone who doesn't know you in the same capacity as the ones you hide in plain view from. When I talked to her, she smiled and said that to me, that she felt she could talk to me because there was little harm I could do in her life, little gossip I could spread. And that I was a good person.

The bus people - if you feel safe to talk to them, and you've got the time and something to get out of your head, DO IT.

The hardest part is saying hello, but it may be one of the best moments of your day, and you may make someone else's day by talking to them too. There is a great terror that the strangers on the street won't accept you because your closest people don't, but they don't know you, and sometimes that's the beautiful part.

If you want to talk, or anything else, comment below.