another commuter lost in his own world, he pushes his way onto the crowded train designed for a city half the population of the one it now services. Gavitte passes his commute to the center of the city with his face pressed to an image of the finely sculpted abs of a man proclaiming the benefits of drinking health water and his mind lost in a circle of musing.
All too vividly he remembers a year ago when she had left for the last time. It had started as any other fight, over something inconsequential, the details have faded along with the pain of losing her, but one thing remains fresh. One wound is continually opened and dashed lightly with salt. The real reason she left, even if to an observer it was the dishes stacked on the counter, was his rise through the political ranks.
When they’d met on the outskirts of a rally on campus when they were finishing school, they’d recognized a kindred passion in each other. The system was broken and they were the only ones who could fix it. Their political passion quickly spilled over into the personal aspects of their lives, drawing them closer together and fanning the flames that seemed to leap between them. The first time she’d left him was shortly after they’d moved in together. It had made sense for him to pay for the apartment, he had a better paying job and more money saved then she did, but she felt she was losing her ability to determine her own fate.
It took him nearly two weeks to coax her off her friend’s couch and back into the apartment and his life. Treading carefully, he slowly convinced her that he could help her while honoring her independence. When they graduated, he swallowed his pride and took a job that promised a secure and steady rate of growth. If he worked hard and allowed goals to be dictated by others, he knew he would eventually be quite comfortable, and maybe then he could follow his dreams once more. She on the other hand seemed to only have her ideals and dreams sharpened by contact with the world beyond the cozy walls of their university campus. Continually frustrated by bureaucracy, she moved from job to job, never staying long enough with any organization to build any level of seniority in its ranks, always trying to make a difference; to instigate some sort of change. Meanwhile he resolved to keep his head down and support her as best he could.
The second time she left him was shortly after he thought they were both settled and secure in their relationship. He’d suggested selling her old beat up vehicle to help pay off some of the mountain of debt she was still buried under from the years of school required for her degrees, which stirred up her frustration. Offering to let her use his, which sat idle most of the time anyway, seemed to only make her angrier. Citing her desire for self-determination, she hastily packed a bag and stormed out into the night, on foot if his memory serves, as her vehicle was getting repaired again. This time she was gone for several months until a chance encounter leaving a restaurant made them both realize that their passion for each other still burned.
Gavitte’s career continued its steady growth, but each step up the ladder only revealed more red tape that needed to be cut, more hurdles to kinds of change he’d told himself he’d one day be able to make. Make the small sacrifices up front, compromise now, and later you’ll be able to make the real changes, he’d told himself. He hadn’t realized it yet, but he’d walked himself into a trap. Too far engrossed in the system to get out, he’d made too many commitments and depended too thoroughly on the security it provided to ever really make the changes he’d once dreamed of.
The third time she’d left him, he’d known it was final, though it took him by surprise. Sure there had probably been signs, but he’d grown steadily more engrossed in his job and less in tune with the rest of the world. His commute home had been like any other day, the