The Next Blockbuster Hit by Carly Rutkovsky
 It was one of those rom-com movie moments, for sure. At least it should be: two people who are romantically involved, parting ways on a train platform with entirely different ideas about it. One is heading onto the train, oblivious to the other’s overreaction and what that could possibly mean-- and the other walks away, shoulders heavy and eyes burning with tears. After a weekend away at a “quaint country home,” which was more of a mansion in somewhat upstate New York with my boyfriend, I was ready to return home to Westchester. My next stop would be California, and Jason, my boyfriend would return home to his lavish apartment in the city with his parents, before leaving for a program at Yale University for three weeks. On my first and last venture to the Poughkeepsie train station, an event occurred that should’ve been, had I realized, a life-altering event. Life altering in the eyes of a teenager who believed everything going on at the moment was in dire need of attention and was the most important thing to happen ever. Little did I know the severity of what would happen next. I looked up at the signs and down below at my feet pounding on the hot concrete as I dashed around for the train. Platform 1? No. Platform 4? No. I glanced for the millionth time at my phone, squinted my eyes and it still read Platform 2. Whichever way I read my phone or the signs--nothing was matching up--and in the end neither would the characters in this real life rom-com scene. My inevitable goodbye was coming closer as my phone ticked down to my departure; well, if I could find the train. In the corner of my eye, I could see him wiping tears, not an unusual sight for him. His hand was wrapped tightly around mine-- clammy and sweaty-- and certainly tighter than usual. But my mission was to find the train; we could say goodbye once we got there. It was only going to be a month, seriously nothing to make a huge deal about. I anticipated a brief, but emotional, hard to pull away “See you soon,” not like the Peter Pan kind of good-bye. Honestly, nothing like what actually happened. Peter Pan is famous for a lot of things, like never wanting to grow up and other stuff, but he has a saying that is special to many Disney fanatics. “Never say good-bye because good-bye means going away and going away means forgetting.”
This version of good-bye never crossed my mind, not even when we finally found the train, which to me was the real big deal If the Peter Pan saying wasn’t the one running through my mind, a famous quote by an unknown author was: “This is not a goodbye, it’s a see you soon.” However, what was racing through my mind like a subway train was the train’s departure, if I had all my stuff, and why he was crying so hard. The sound on my phone was on high, allowing for the ticking noise of my train schedule app to ring loud and clear, but it seemed to be drowned out by his sobbing. The same kind of sobbing done by Hazel Grace in The Fault in our Stars after Gus passes away. Why was he crying so hard? “It’s only a month,” I tried to coax him back down off the edge. “I know but…” his sentence interrupted by another wave of tears. “But what? It’ll be fine. You’ll have a great time on your program, and when I get back from California we’ll see each other.” My efforts to get him to relax were met with sighs, more sobbing, and even more tears. Oh, and his mother awkwardly stepping in to hand him tissues. Thanks mom. The ticking from my phone was going faster now, accompanied by the alarm sound emitting from the train. I separated myself from his latched-on embrace to take one step towards the train before he caught me again. It was getting sappy now, but still, the message he was trying to get across--a true good-bye-- went right over my head. He never pulled the Ryan Gosling in The Notebook “Please don’t go!” but his actions basically said it for him. I tried to swallow my giggles and hide my rolling eyes. At this point it was almost comical. Why was he being so weird over this? Why was me getting on a train so heart wrenching for him? In that last grab, his hands clenching onto my arms, and his eyes looking straight into mine, the pattern of his words began to match his waterfall tears. “I’m going to miss you so much.” “I know, me too. But it’s only a month.” “No, really. You have no idea how much you’ve impacted me.” My eyes glanced over at the train and he took that as a signal to launch full force into his soliloquy, similar to one in a Shakespeare movie adaptation, or something. “You have made me a better person, Carly.” “You’ve done the same for me. “You have given me something no one else ever will. You are my first love.” I looked down and blushed, allowing him to keep going…but would it ever end? I had a train to catch! “You have taught me how to love.” And with that, the train conductor’s voice boomed over the loudspeaker announcing the final call for the train to New York. I sighed in relief knowing I would make it on the train. With one last extremely tight hug, he relinquished me into the trust of the train. My feet finally stood on the train’s ugly, dirty floor and I waved shyly to him and his mom. He shouted that he loved me just as the doors closed. After I found a seat and situated myself, I still hadn’t paid any mind to how simply weird that goodbye was. Even after his recalling our months together and his ‘50s, Grease “going steady” style profession of love, it all just seemed like the overemotional guy I had come to know. Not to say I didn’t appreciate his emotional side, it was one of my favorite things about him but all that for a month apart? It seemed kind of strange to me. I plugged my earphones into the jack of my phone, pressed play and stared out the window--completely unaware of what any of that truly meant for me.