Dear Metro,
This morning I realized that what we have is clearly love. I have never felt this passionate about another person let a lone a heartless contractor seizing federal tax dollars as well as charging extortionately high commuter fairs.
Metro it is days like today when I realize just how much I love you. You were the lovely tempest crashing into my normally placid and serene morning daze; destroying the houses of my thoughts flooding my sulci.
You were so upset today, Metro, you cast me outside. You threw us all out into the rain. With your typical appreciation for symbolism, you of course stopped at the cemetery and kindly announced that we should all alight. We stood on the sidewalk watching your lights fade into the dark tunnel up ahead as ice began to rain from the sky. Seconds turned into minutes.
Metro, how we pined for you. Some of us blamed you and let anger blindside us, but the reasonable few, like myself, realize we are the only ones to blame. Metro you are so kind and so benevolent and how we take you for granted.
Sure you frequently leave us stranded on the weekend but you are never allowed a day off... well unless it snows over an inch. Sure your escalators never seem to all work at the same time, but I am sure there is a reason for this.
Eitherway, Metro, I know your life is hard. All day you toil about the same tracks. Dragging the silent and disgruntled federal employees alongside the overzealous tourists longing only to clamber off of you and go about their lives. Never realizing what you do for them. Never thanking you, but simply spilling the drinks you ask them not to have, or scratching their initials into your hard plastic seats. Metro we wrong you daily. You slave for us daily, and we barely take time to listen when you try and tell us how your day was. This relationship is not give and take but simply take.
Metro today while I was standing and the disgusting rain was turning my light blue shirt to a muddy brown, I realized what an omniscient and omnipresent force you are.
When I am tired, drunk, scared, lost... it's you, or a cab, who takes me home. You accept me no matter what state I am in. You allow me to crawl into your chest and nestle sweetly between your ribs, while you glide me on my way. Yet the few times you decide to take care of yourself first, and as a result we the riders are mildly inconvenienced, we rail at your walls. We scream for your heads to be placed on pikes and paraded through town.
Metro thank you! I will not chastise you for your imperfections. To do that would only shed light on some of my own indiscretions. I love you, and when the others hand you the cross and tell you to march up the hill, I will be there to bare your burden. I will lift the oaken planks from your broad shoulder and allow you to march with your head held high. After all you have not failed. You have just not met standards and so you over charge; like a wise man once said "There is no sin in relieving a fool of his money."
So, Metro, it is here I will end my letter. Any ill will has been absorbed into the air along with water which once inhabited my clothing. I hope your day improves and tonight when we meet again you will be right as rain.
Love,
Truly yours
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