Retrospective

“I went outside to smoke a cigarette today; it was pitch black and cold. The rain has not stopped in several days, so I feel like I am trapped in the same dreary moment that keeps looping into infinity — no break in the downpour and no sign of daylight because I sleep until the moon crawls out.

I was standing there with my cigarette surveying everything. The rain, the puddles, the constant swoosh of cars on a wet road, the absence of life. It was like I was the only person in the world for a moment, because all of the animals were hiding and all of the people were warm and dry inside of their homes. I felt this incredible emptiness at that realization, an emptiness that actually felt a little painful because it was so deep.

It was as if the literal emptiness of my stomach was drawing from the deeper reservoir in my soul. I wanted to keel over and curl up, because I ached from my heart to my gut. The world seemed so vast and so intimidating and I was unsure of my place in it. I looked over at my front door and realized, really realized, that I lived alone and what that meant. I was alone. I had already gone all day without speaking a word, and could go many more because I had no one to come home to and no one to tell my day to. That was lonely and I felt it in my body like a dull ache.”