I met a traveler once. We were watching a busker perform on the street. He was singing Yesterday by The Beatles, I believe. I'd asked the traveler for the names a few songs before this. However, during this particular song, I realized the sorrow that hid beneath the surface. I brushed it off for the time being as she seemed to be enjoying the song, even with her slightly foggy eyes at this point. Then we listened to some more songs and made a few comments between them. The busker's set ended. At that point, we got to talk a bit more. The traveler turned out to be Canadian, traveling across the UK to find some solace and family. A radio host, having lost her mother two years ago, resorted to alcohol, and was now trying to fix it all. And then I understood the painful smile she carried around. The baggage that she carried alongside her luggage. Such a different life.
I don't even know the traveler's name. All I can remember right now was how she almost choked on her words when I said "I think you'll be alright." I guess, having not felt that way for a while, that did her in. It's the kind of thing everyone wants to hear from time to time. The farewell was also very awkward. Having told me about her past, how it was a success that she wasn't in a pub right now, it must have been difficult figure out how to end the conversation. In the end, I think what I heard, with a voice that belonged behind a microphone, was "have a great rest of your trip." You too, the traveling radio host. I hope you find your solace, fix everything from the ground up, forgive yourself as you will have to do that at some point, and return to your passion. I didn't know four or five songs from the busker's set, yet she seemed to know all by heart. I don't know where is now, but I definitely know she'd found her place in her studio.