My train station

Dear stranger,
I wonder what has taken you so long to randomly show up at a train station and wave at me. You probably don't know who I am, which doesn't really matter because it's just another thing you'll never get to know, but let us stick to this: I'm someone you don't know, and you're someone I don't know, except I've been looking forward to meeting you. I've been waiting for you to let me talk to you, to tell you my complete version of the story. I've been waiting for you or someone or anyone to just aimlessly listen to my irrelevant stories and immediately forget them afterwards. I've been intending to talk without worrying about any kind of response or judgement. I've been wanting you to calmly watch tears fall down my face and actually not ask why they're falling. I've been looking forward to a pointless, random conversation. I've been waiting for you. Except you don't really exist.

Yours,
Someone who is waiting for you to miraculously show up. At a train station.

P.S. Except I hate train stations.