The man in the black trench coat and the lady with almost perfect hair in another black trench coat arrived at the train station at exactly the same time, hand in hand. Lana was feeling much better. Not to a point of pure love, but that was okay. The man, who thought that almost perfect hair was perfect, was in a state of pure love, and for now, that was enough for the both of them.
They effortlessly stepped over a forgotten crate. It probably used to hold some citrus fruit. Maybe a little orphan had eaten all of the remaining contents, which might be why it was empty. The two people kept walking forwards (or backwards, if you think of the chronological order of events that happened yesterday).
“Here,” Lana said softly, but not quietly.
“Here.”
“Yes, this is where here is where Cameron…”
But she did not need to speak anymore; her words needn’t be soft or non-quiet. The man knew what she was going to say. Best friends, or strangers, just know that kind of thing.
“He loved me, you know.”
“I know.”
“It wasn’t pure, best strangers love, though.”
“I know.”
“It ran deeper. Deeper than five inches. It ran so deep, that if it were an object, it would have run right through to the other side. Good thing he was able to contain it all. Sometimes I had to let some of my love for him go to other people. Sometimes I wasn’t able to contain it all. But he did, he was good at that. I think that at times it was too much for him to handle though. But he never let on that it was that way. He was much to good for me, me who ran off giving little bits of love to other people.”
“You only gave pure, best strangers love, though.”
“I know.”
Lana never had to fear of containing too much love from that point on. Somewhere inside she always carried a bit of loss, and an even smaller bit of guilt. She had lost her Cam-er-on, but at least she still had a best friend. Or best stranger. He didn’t have a name to her or any superficial hobbies or birthdays. What he was to her was much better, pure, non-measurable best strangers love. They could never call each other to make a time to meet; they always just knew when the other one needed them. And when they departed, the other one always wondered if they other spoke English even. Because they were such best strangers, that they barely even needed to communicate verbally. So it left them with a curiosity if the other was speaking the same language, or if they just understood anyway.
One thing was for sure though, Cameron was always one Lana’s mind. She wore his black trench coat most everywhere, especially on torrential downpouring days. Though Cameron was much unlike the other man in the other black trench coat, they were still quite similar. Cameron never did quite ever get Lana’s name correct, and always gave her cards and flowers on her birthday. He enjoyed superficial things, whereas the other man knew that they were not needed. Lana loved Cameron for his obliviousness to meaningful things. She knew she always had her best strangers for the meaningful things. But without Cameron, she would lose touch with the playful, trivial side of life and forever focus on the hard core matters. Good thing Cameron’s black trench coat was forever there to keep her on track, railroad or otherwise.