Rant #12: Loneliness
...The man put down his mocha and watched as the woman walked away. He shook his head slightly as he looked over the events that had led up to this point. He glanced down at the coffee mug then closed his eyes, trying to calm his manic thoughts. ‘I can’t believe I just did that’ he thought to himself.
The man opened his eyes and looked up. His thoughts refused to calm down, adding to the caffeine jitters his drink had started. He let his eyes drift across the coffee shop, looking for something or someone to occupy the conscious part of his brain. His subconscious was a different story; it had entrenched itself in a dark mood and showed no signs of moving anytime soon. Sighing softly, the man finished the dregs of his mocha and stood up. Nothing and nobody stood out of the crowd, grabbing his attention.
He took the empty mug up to the counter, waved to the girl behind the register, and walked out into the spring night. The sky was cloudy, looking like it was going to rain, but it had looked like that all day and it hadn’t changed a bit. There was a slight breeze, cool and think, but the night itself was warm. The man walked down the sidewalk, hands deep in his pockets.
It was a familiar path, one he had walked many times before. A small shiver, an after effect of the mocha more than the wind, snaked its way down his spine and into his extremities. He crossed the street and made his way into the park. A path was laid around the pond with benches placed irregularly along the way.
The man slowly walked down the path, listening to the water, the ducks, the soft sounds of the evening. He stopped and sat at one of the benches, adjusting until he found a comfortable position. He sat there unmoving, watching the ducks float across the surface of the pond. After a while, a minute or an hour he knew not, the man slowly sat forward and placed his head in his hands. He breathed in deeply, smelling the air as it passed into his lungs.
As he let the breath go all his thoughts that he had held back through sheer force of will broke out and raced into him. They flowed out into every part of his being. They were followed swiftly by numbness; a feeling that the man had grown accustomed to. The thoughts that raced around him would have brought sadness, despair, or desperation to other people; the man would have welcomed those feelings. He would gladly feel those feelings, or any other emotion for that matter. But all he knew now was numbness. He would have wept if he was able but his eyes remained dry.
He stayed in this position, cradling his head, for an interminable amount of time until a voice broke into his void. It was a soft voice but had a powerful undercurrent of strength woven into it.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
The man brought his head out of his hands slightly, enough to see red painted toenails connected to a pair of feet wearing black sandals. As chaotic as his mind was, the man was unable to stop the remark that slipped past his lips.
“You sure they’re worth that much?”
“I won’t know till I hear them,” she replied.
The man slowly leaned back, taking in the newcomer inch by inch. The sandaled feet gave way to blue jeans that were topped by a simple, white t-shirt. Her hands were slipped casually into a gray cotton jacket that was zipped halfway up. Dark brown eyes sparkled out of a petite face that was framed by two strands of deep brunette hair. The rest of it was pulled back into a ponytail. She had a half smile on her face that the man found strangely comforting. As she looked into his eyes her mouth quirked up a bit higher.
“Besides, it’s my money to spend how I want.”
A small smile crept across the man’s face as he gestured for her to take the other half of the bench. She took the seat with a graceful nod of thanks.
“So what are you doing out here all alone?” she inquired. Again, before he could stop himself, another half sarcastic remark made its way out.
“I’m enjoying the simple pleasure of a beautiful spring evening.”
She arched an eyebrow. “It didn’t look like you were enjoying much down there. But I could be wrong.”
The man shrugged at her reply, not bothering to refute what he knew was true. They made small talk for a few minutes, mostly polite chatter to get a feel for each other.
“So why are you out here all by your lonesome?” the girl asked.
“I could ask you the same question,” the man retorted.
“But I asked you first, and you haven’t actually asked that question so I’m not obliged to answer.” He smirked at her reply, but sobered quickly.
He was silent for a moment before saying, “That’s the big question, isn’t it.” Her eyes, having never left his own, started to bore deep into the man’s soul.
“You have friends?” she asked, “Someone that could tag along?”
The man glanced down, but was looking more within himself rather than the sidewalk. “Sure I do. But sometimes I feel lonely or numb even around them. I mean, I’ll laugh at the jokes, tell a few of my own, and basically have a good time. But there is still that undercurrent, that knocking in the back of my mind. And it’s getting to where even then, when I’m surrounded by my friends, this...numbness is all I can feel. I think it’s getting worse. I don’t feel any more. Not happiness, not sadness, not despair, loss, pleasure, or anything. It’s just...empty, numb. I still know intellectually I should feel these things; smiling at jokes, consoling a friend in pain. But there is no feeling, no emotion; it’s just this emptiness. And I’ve been trying to fight it, to push it away, but nothing has changed. And I’m starting to lose hope; that the numbness will take me over completely and I won’t be able to stop it.”
As the man said this last part he looked back up into the woman’s eyes. What he saw in her dark eyes was an overwhelming compassion that started to melt away the numbness. As the man continued to gaze into those deep orbs he felt something inside of him give way, like a dam breaking into nothingness. He had no idea of what she was saying, only that it soothed his soul and opened the way for an emotion that he had long since forgotten the feel of: hope.
And while the man listened to her voice, as he drank in the compassion in her eyes, he felt a sense of peace flown into him. He knew that the numbness, the emptiness was still there. But now he had the peace and hope that would be his allies in the journey towards a new beginning...
May my angel come soon...
-James York
The man opened his eyes and looked up. His thoughts refused to calm down, adding to the caffeine jitters his drink had started. He let his eyes drift across the coffee shop, looking for something or someone to occupy the conscious part of his brain. His subconscious was a different story; it had entrenched itself in a dark mood and showed no signs of moving anytime soon. Sighing softly, the man finished the dregs of his mocha and stood up. Nothing and nobody stood out of the crowd, grabbing his attention.
He took the empty mug up to the counter, waved to the girl behind the register, and walked out into the spring night. The sky was cloudy, looking like it was going to rain, but it had looked like that all day and it hadn’t changed a bit. There was a slight breeze, cool and think, but the night itself was warm. The man walked down the sidewalk, hands deep in his pockets.
It was a familiar path, one he had walked many times before. A small shiver, an after effect of the mocha more than the wind, snaked its way down his spine and into his extremities. He crossed the street and made his way into the park. A path was laid around the pond with benches placed irregularly along the way.
The man slowly walked down the path, listening to the water, the ducks, the soft sounds of the evening. He stopped and sat at one of the benches, adjusting until he found a comfortable position. He sat there unmoving, watching the ducks float across the surface of the pond. After a while, a minute or an hour he knew not, the man slowly sat forward and placed his head in his hands. He breathed in deeply, smelling the air as it passed into his lungs.
As he let the breath go all his thoughts that he had held back through sheer force of will broke out and raced into him. They flowed out into every part of his being. They were followed swiftly by numbness; a feeling that the man had grown accustomed to. The thoughts that raced around him would have brought sadness, despair, or desperation to other people; the man would have welcomed those feelings. He would gladly feel those feelings, or any other emotion for that matter. But all he knew now was numbness. He would have wept if he was able but his eyes remained dry.
He stayed in this position, cradling his head, for an interminable amount of time until a voice broke into his void. It was a soft voice but had a powerful undercurrent of strength woven into it.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
The man brought his head out of his hands slightly, enough to see red painted toenails connected to a pair of feet wearing black sandals. As chaotic as his mind was, the man was unable to stop the remark that slipped past his lips.
“You sure they’re worth that much?”
“I won’t know till I hear them,” she replied.
The man slowly leaned back, taking in the newcomer inch by inch. The sandaled feet gave way to blue jeans that were topped by a simple, white t-shirt. Her hands were slipped casually into a gray cotton jacket that was zipped halfway up. Dark brown eyes sparkled out of a petite face that was framed by two strands of deep brunette hair. The rest of it was pulled back into a ponytail. She had a half smile on her face that the man found strangely comforting. As she looked into his eyes her mouth quirked up a bit higher.
“Besides, it’s my money to spend how I want.”
A small smile crept across the man’s face as he gestured for her to take the other half of the bench. She took the seat with a graceful nod of thanks.
“So what are you doing out here all alone?” she inquired. Again, before he could stop himself, another half sarcastic remark made its way out.
“I’m enjoying the simple pleasure of a beautiful spring evening.”
She arched an eyebrow. “It didn’t look like you were enjoying much down there. But I could be wrong.”
The man shrugged at her reply, not bothering to refute what he knew was true. They made small talk for a few minutes, mostly polite chatter to get a feel for each other.
“So why are you out here all by your lonesome?” the girl asked.
“I could ask you the same question,” the man retorted.
“But I asked you first, and you haven’t actually asked that question so I’m not obliged to answer.” He smirked at her reply, but sobered quickly.
He was silent for a moment before saying, “That’s the big question, isn’t it.” Her eyes, having never left his own, started to bore deep into the man’s soul.
“You have friends?” she asked, “Someone that could tag along?”
The man glanced down, but was looking more within himself rather than the sidewalk. “Sure I do. But sometimes I feel lonely or numb even around them. I mean, I’ll laugh at the jokes, tell a few of my own, and basically have a good time. But there is still that undercurrent, that knocking in the back of my mind. And it’s getting to where even then, when I’m surrounded by my friends, this...numbness is all I can feel. I think it’s getting worse. I don’t feel any more. Not happiness, not sadness, not despair, loss, pleasure, or anything. It’s just...empty, numb. I still know intellectually I should feel these things; smiling at jokes, consoling a friend in pain. But there is no feeling, no emotion; it’s just this emptiness. And I’ve been trying to fight it, to push it away, but nothing has changed. And I’m starting to lose hope; that the numbness will take me over completely and I won’t be able to stop it.”
As the man said this last part he looked back up into the woman’s eyes. What he saw in her dark eyes was an overwhelming compassion that started to melt away the numbness. As the man continued to gaze into those deep orbs he felt something inside of him give way, like a dam breaking into nothingness. He had no idea of what she was saying, only that it soothed his soul and opened the way for an emotion that he had long since forgotten the feel of: hope.
And while the man listened to her voice, as he drank in the compassion in her eyes, he felt a sense of peace flown into him. He knew that the numbness, the emptiness was still there. But now he had the peace and hope that would be his allies in the journey towards a new beginning...
May my angel come soon...
-James York