The other side of the bed was cold. Sunlight fell on the unwrinkled cotton as I turned away from the empty space. I could hear coffee percolating in the other room. The used grounds would produce a week brown liquid that I would consume, despite my distaste. Driven by habit, I sat up in bed. There was no use putting off the inevitable.
The one bedroom apartment seemed to have grown since she left. I readily remembered us stumbling over each other in our morning routine. She could never decide what was more important, coffee or the bathroom. I used to tell her that she needed to just get over it and put the coffee pot in the bathroom. I think only the absurdity of the suggestion stopped her from doing just that.
I was standing in front of the coffee pot when the thought struck me. I had no family to speak of. She left me for my best friend. She convinced the rest of my friends that I was the one to blame. It only took three days of hiding in bed to loose my job. I was living off a month of unused vacation time until unemployment kicked in. My life was going nowhere fast. There was nothing left to keep me on this earth.
With a wrinkle in my brow, I walked over to the bathroom. In the medicine cabinet I pulled down the box of razors and an expired bottle of pills. My wrist flicked the toilet seat down and I settled my boxers onto the fluffy cover. I didn't feel insane or desperate. I was simply contemplating my options.
The part of me that stopped me from beating my ex-best friend into a bloody pulp and kept me from literally forcing her to stay brought me off the toilet. It was years since I last took a morning jog. It was the appeal of snuggling next to my best girl kept me from the trail. But there was no warm body to keep me from the trail this morning. The fear of the unknown, of my own thoughts, propelled me out the door.
The sky was grey and the sun had yet to break the horizon. I inhaled the crisp taste of morning into my lungs. Muted tones of green blurred under my feet and earthy bark at my sides. The world was covered in a fine dew. My feet brushed the ground and took me further from my thoughts. I ran faster, pushing my body and my breath.
Adrenaline surged until I choked on it. Sputtering, I stumbled to a stop. My skin was slick with sweat. In my chest my heart continued the race. I struggled with my breath. There was an anvil on my chest. I was shaking but I forced my legs to move. Up ahead I could see a park bench. A few more feet and I'd reach it.
I slid gratefully onto the bench. A few regular runners passed. They were absorbed in their own world and didn't notice me. Unwanted, the thoughts returned. Life was just like this trail. As long as I kept moving, no one would notice me. Or if I moved off the path, they would simply keep going. But if I dropped dead in the middle of the path, they would have to stop.
Did I want that? I knew that people would come out of the woodwork to morn my death. Isn't that just the way. They may be too absorbed in their own lives to make time for me in life, but they'd make the time for that truly final goodbye. Thinking about other people made it harder to contemplate my death. I wouldn't choose death to make some kind of statement. Death was only an option if there was nothing to live for.
But then I came back to the truth. What did I have to live for? All that I valued was gone. I looked down at my arms as they lay on my lap. My hands clench into fists. I wanted to be angry. I wanted there to be some other point to all this misery. I didn't want the end of my life to be because...well, because I failed. Because he was more than me. Because my friends believed her lies over my truth. Because I was all alone and couldn't imagine forging a new life.
A drop fell on my arm. I blinked. The tears came unbidden. Angrily I swiped at my face. What a fucking pussy. My life was over and all I could do was cry. But then again, who cared? Who was I trying to impress? I was thinking about taking my own life. I made the word in my head. Suicide.
I choked on the tears. I was so absorbed in my grief that I didn't notice the joggers as they stared. For the first time in years I really let myself cry. My body shook from the sobs. It was completely undignified, this act. Like a child, I bawled.
And then, suddenly, it was over. Shaking and vulnerable I looked out at the park. The sun had broken the horizon. I wiped the wetness from my face. The pond was teeming with little duck families. My eyes took in my surroundings and stopped on the girl across the path. She was staring at me. I sat up a little taller. Her eyes jerked down and then back up as she walked up to me.
She was barely teenage and hidden under yards of black cloth. Her face was painted pale and her finger nails black. She pulled a kerchief from her backpack and stopped an arm length from where I sat. I took the kerchief that she offered but didn't use it. I could see that she was uncomfortable and this moment of social contact wasn't her norm.
"They don't notice your pain because it's too real." She told me.
Dumbly I replied, "I'm sorry?"
"The other joggers." She said, waiving down the trail. "You'd think they'd stop. Crying shows you're wounded, like bleeding show's your wounded. They'd stop if someone is bleeding, but if you're crying they run faster."
I just stared.
She turned away from my look of confusion and stared out at the park. "But it is beautiful, this world. You have to think there's something worth it out there; if there can be mornings like this. Just spectacular."
She laughed and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear self consciously, "Listen to me. Spouting about beauty in the world. I'm not a very good Goth, am I?"
"I don't know." I mumbled.
She had a point. This backwards little girl had something. It was a beautiful morning. Maybe it wasn't time to give up. There were so many things I used to love before I was in a couple. I could get another job. Maybe I could move and start over again. Find new friends.
The girl cleared her throat. "I gotta get to school."
I held out the kerchief and she shook her head.
"Keep it." She told me and gave me a self-effacing smile, "And don't let the man get you down. There's always another beautiful morning just waiting around the corner."
She rushed away before I could say anything. It was better that way because I didn't really know what to say. She was so odd but, in that moment, I felt like she could see inside me. And I was better for having heard her words.
I shoved the kerchief in my pocket. I stood and stretched. It was time to jog back to my apartment. Time to face the empty rooms and make them my own. Time to start my new life. And suddenly I was looking forward to the next morning, just around the corner.
The End.
- ‹ previous
- 47 of 53
- next ›