He never really wanted to be a dad. Especially not now, after he’d worked so hard to get his life in order and things, though difficult, were finally going right. He’d been more vocal about this lately–to the point that it had ended a relationship he’d deeply given himself in. And feeling even more empty now, he was continually affirmed that it was the right thing. They wanted different things, and parenthood was one he wasn’t willing to compromise upon.
He rode the train alone, thinking about how meaningful his life was in this city; this place that he finally felt like he could call his home. It was late and there was little sound aside from the rumbling car, cutting its way through the city. At the other end of car a man stood up as the train approached a stop and progressivly slowed. He took his son’s hand and the little boy, backpack tightly strapped to his back, jumped to his feet. He craned his neck, looking up at his father lovingly with complete trust and the hint of a smile. His dad looked back and returned the smile. They both seemed to glow a little.
And in that moment, the man at the other end of the car changed his mind and his heart melted a little. He wanted to be a father after all.