#45 Spaceship

Spaceship.

When I boarded you for the first time last July, I didn't know I'd be growing attached to you.

I love the sound of your engine. I love how bumpy the rides are with you. I love how your bell sounds like, instead of kringggg it goes tetttt. And no matter how tired I am, no matter how much I need a nap, I can never fall asleep. I know which windows of yours can be closed easily and which can only be closed in a certain angle and force.

I stick to my usual seat, the fifth from the front, right hand side, except for when it gets too sunny and I can't stand the blazing sun. When the sun tucks itself beneath the clouds, I switch seats quickly in case other people sit there. It can only be mine.

Today was shitty. But when I saw you parked at your usual spot, two days after not seeing you, I felt happy that at least my day won't end as shitty as how it began.

Having you around means I don't need to hop on the next bus, the air conditioned one, which always gets full along the way, and everyone's just invading everyone's personal space, some people are going to start playing music on their phones without plugging in their earphones, the driver's going to get grumpy, people are going to talk loudly to each other and their voice echoes and circles and never escapes the bus, because there are no open windows and doors, and I often feel trapped, and there's really no liberation on that bus. But when your driver asked us why we chose you, many many weeks ago, I couldn't tell this to him.

I couldn't tell him that I like you because you have lots and lots of windows that I can open as wide as I can, and I get to feel the breeze brusing through my hair, and even when there are people talking loudly, their voices get muffled by the sound of your engine. And they escape through the window. Or the front door. And I never feel trapped. I feel liberated. Your aisle is bigger. Your seats are never filled with passengers, so I get to sit alone, far from other people. And your driver makes everyone feel belonged to you. He's like a very welcoming owner of a house, and you are that house. You are that home.

Home. Or spaceship. You're not just a bus. You're the spaceship that sent my imagination way beyond the skies and the clouds. You took me to the places in my mind that I never get to visit in real life. You made me an astronaut of my own thoughts and fears. You've seen the shittiest of my shittiest day yet, and you've accompanied me through beats of Livin' on a Prayer and Eye of the Tiger as I tapped my feet on your floor, trying to bring myself up again after falling really hard.

So spaceship, spaceship, please hold on, don't break down, don't die yet, not until I graduate from uni.