Edit this passage from my story?

This is the opening three paragraphs from a story that I haven't revisited in awhile. The passage just feels off to me, like its almost reached what I want it to. I just want there to be an overall feeling of confusion and an undertone of seriousness and possible danger. Like since she walked away, based off what just happened, she could be walking into danger without knowing it.

It's had no editing since it was written. Feel free to critique anything, change anything or offer any sort of advice you'd like.

Here's the passage:

They say good-byes are hard. I say any good-bye is hard. We can become so close with another living and breathing human being there is hardly a memory of how it came to be that way. So well we know them that they just become a part of us, a center we didn't know we had. A center that makes us crumble when it's taken away from us. Gone is our center, no matter the time span, its gone. We aren't whole. We're missing them, even when we don't realize it. Sometimes the difficulty of a good-bye hardly registers; an easy pass-off. Maybe we just haven't realized the impact in our lives they've had, or the good-bye was for them and not for us.

Come looking for me, and you’ll find me on a train platform walking away from a good-bye. I wandered through the crowd, making my way towards the train through the random openings between people. Progress was slow, but I was ok with it. All I could think about was the lingering good-bye I just had with my parents. The serious tones and finality of the requests they made had only served to confuse me. I felt that I made promises to them not knowing what I was promising.

I climbed onto the train near its dark scarlet head, still lost in thought. As I passed through the front part of the corridor I was snapped from thought at the sound of the train’s whistle. I snapped my head sharply to the right and saw out the window in the first compartment I was next to. Almost immediately I found my mother and father standing close by, tucked into each others arms. As the train gave another call, I watched my father wipe a tear from her eye and speak something into her ear. She nodded and smiled and wiped the tear from her eye. As if they knew exactly where I was their eyes found me standing near the window. The train gave its final whistle and I moved quickly to be in front of the window, to wave back to my parents. It seemed like no time at all before the train was out of the station and I couldn’t see them any more. Not knowing what to do I stayed in front of the window, my arm still stuck in the last wave.

Thank you!