Cozy Bed and Cracked Windows

There is a train that I hear every night in the distance. Its horn whispers to me as I lie in my warm and comfortable bed fixed between two cracked windows. Louder and longer the horn screams to me as it nears. I always wonder who is on the train. Where are they going? What is holding me back from hopping that train and journeying to some far off city where no one has known my failures or successes? To assume a completely different identity and get lost in the character that I mask so cleverly with my witty and calculated answers. I’d wear large sunglasses and hats pretending to be someone I’m not. Of course, that plan would fail because I would abandon the journey that is life. The mystery of every step that I can take, and the decisions I might make excite me. Why should I put on a face and live another’s life, when each day I live has endless possibilities? I could get on that train. I could go and forget all that I am to chase the next adventure. I could leave this place and never look back. I always think about that train. That train that leads to another town, but once I get to that town, I still have to face the problems and insecurities I thought I had left there, in my cozy bed between my cracked windows.
I write all this knowing full well that sometimes, you got to get on that train. But I hope when I do, it’s not to pursue refuge in crowds, but instead to independently take another step, accepting the past and pressing towards the future.