Interesting circumstances

I snapped this picture with my cell phone, covertly, on the train from Milan to Florence. I was seated across from this pair.  On entry to the train, I judged them to be a Father/Daughter team.  Soon, though, she was kissing him and affectionately rubbing his leg.  They spoke English, and from what I could gather, they had just met a few days before in Milan.  They were both lone travelers on a European vacation.  She fell in love with him.  He is around seventy to seventy-five years old, I imagine.  She can't be more than thirty-five. Comparisons to Lost in Translation aside, I started thinking about the stigmas they must face everywhere they go.  Then I started thinking about motivations.  She must be filling some daddy-issue in her life.  She must be taking him for every penny he's got.  She must be piggybacking on his cathartic woefulness. He must be unable to let go of his past.  He must be using his money to buy himself companionship. He must be latching onto her youthful spirit to inject, vicariously,some meaning into his existence. 

They conversed for about a half an hour before she dozed off on his shoulder.  She spoke of elementary education and bliss principles.  He muttered few words, but he pierced her ideas with his understanding eyes. She slept. He read the maps.  He slept.

As I watched them, attached to each other, not willing to let go, I let go.  I forgot for a moment my cultural stigmas.  I reminisced on their conversation, not the words, but the meanings.  She was trying to impress him with her low-key brilliance.  Her face was worn not with signs of age, but with youth.  She was pock-marked, but otherwise pretty, as if some cruel fate had aged her in reverse. He had lines and years on his face, but beneath it all, kind eyes filled to the brim with wisdom, as if they were recording.  These two made a connection.  However fickle or impulsive, I was not to judge.   

 I caught his eye during a readjustment.  It spoke of timelessness. 

I wanted to let him know that I was no longer one of the crowd. Beyond history, apart from history, because of history, they found each other.  Their continued presence had affected a change in me.  I had surpassed that medium amount of time, when their relationship had ripened enough to fill my perspective with joy.  I sent my well wishes to the sleeping couple as I slithered out of my seat to the exit.  

I made sure not to disturb them.