The Window Seat

Comparing the of feelings her love to when sitting in a window seat.

When waiting for the bus or subway, most have already claimed any available window seat in their head. 

All the contenders take their place in front of the doors, swerving in any direction they need in order to take what they had mentally claimed. 

When buying a plane ticket, most are focused on their destination until they start eagerly looking for the number that matches the one on their ticket in hopes it's a window seat. 

We're all guilty of competing for this seat, so what's so special about it?

There's an obvious excitement it brings people, you can tell by the way they look out the window at the world. 

Or, by how little their eyes shift from the world they just left to their inside surroundings. 

With the assets of a dreamer and the right music, there's a good chance they're not coming back to reality until it's their stop if they're lucky enough. 

It always amazed me being able to watch how the world works, yet escaping it simultaneously. 

Freeing, almost. 

Then I met him. 

When waiting for the bus or subway, hope is already saving me a seat where I have mentally designated myself to sit. 

There's an obvious elation he brings me, they can tell by the way I look at him. 

Or, by how my eyes are fixated on him once he enters the room. 

A dreamer I've always been, he an addition to my assets. 

When around him, I'm embraced by the reality of our existence, yet in a reverie of how we might play out. 

I want no other seat than the one next to him when we're in the same room. 

I look at no one but him with the same amount of light shining through my eyes as if I was looking through the thin piece of glass imagining my future. 

He is my future. 

He's my window seat.

Author's Note

Please let me know what you think. Criticism is very much appreciated :) Hope you enjoy the read

Reviews

[Phill Oz O'fee]

Hi - as you asked what I think - and I hope you don't mind - but I've slightly restructured your write into a more flowing free verse format and just added a couple of extra words. Hope you like what I’ve done, as I feel it adds to the strength of your well penned piece … :-)

When waiting for the bus or subway, most have already claimed any available window seat in their head.
All the contenders take their place in front of the doors, swerving in any direction they need in order to take what they had mentally claimed.
When buying a plane ticket, most are focused on their destination until they start eagerly looking for the number that matches the one on their ticket in hopes it's a window seat.

We're all guilty of competing for this seat, so what's so special about it?
There's an obvious excitement it brings people, you can tell by the way they look out the window at the world.
Or, by how little their eyes shift from the world they just left to their inside surroundings.

With the assets of a dreamer and the right music, there's a good chance they're not coming back to reality until it's their stop if they're lucky enough.
It always amazed me being able to watch how the world works, yet escaping it simultaneously.
Freeing me, well almost!

Then I met him.
When waiting for the bus or subway, hope is already saving me a seat where I have mentally designated myself to sit.
There's an obvious elation he brings me, they can tell by the way I look at him.
Or, by how my eyes are fixated on him once he enters the room.

A dreamer I've always been, he an addition to my assets.
When around him, I'm embraced by the reality of our existence, yet in a reverie of how we might play out.
I want no other seat than the one next to him when we're in the same room.

I look at no one but him with the same amount of light shining through my eyes as if I was looking through the thin piece of glass imagining my future.
He is my future.
But more importantly, he's my window seat!

[JLily98]

Thank you, I actually like it this way better :)

[Phill Oz O'fee]

You're welcome::-)