Downtown

      There’s a certain vibrancy that you expect when you’re in the bustling center of a major city. You expect the neon lights to bounce off your skin, illuminating the world surrounding you beautifully; the passing people to gleam in the streetlights as you observe. Perhaps you even look to your friend, family member or lover, loving the way their eyes sparkle as they try to digest the busyness that comes with the city.

           But tonight, despite the abundance of people, I can’t help but feel alone. The neon lights are dull, my smile nonexistent as I scan the all too familiar stores that line the busy streets.

The small Lebanese restaurant that’s tucked between a boutique and a vintage shop doesn’t bring me happiness now. It used to be my favourite, but now I can’t even stomach the thought of entering.

It’s interesting how our perspectives change when we are given more information. What was once my go-to place for dinner downtown, is now my personal kryptonite.

Can you blame me?

It was my favourite place. My sanctuary after a long day at work, a social gathering place, an anniversary treat.

But he ruined everything. They ruined everything.

The way he stroked her hair, pushed it behind her ear, smiling tenderly while she spoke of her family’s vacation plans. She grabbed his hand, leaning into his touch gingerly.

They both ordered our usual meal. The one I had showed him before, saying it could cure any bad day. He would bring me there, sit at that same table, and do the same things with me just a couple weeks ago.

Now, everything has changed. After that night, finding them locked in each others embrace, I gave up on this false sense of positivity that I had been so desperately clinging onto. I stopped looking at everything through rose-tinted glasses.

That’s why I’m standing here in the heart of downtown, alone, watching the colours go down the drain along with the light rain that gently falls from the night sky. The lights used to fill me with warmth, no matter the weather, but all I feel now is cold.

There’s no one with me, no one to guide me under an awning of a nearby shop so we could open our umbrella.

If I walk just a little further, the lights will dim even more, as we get closer and closer to my apartment. It no longer feels like home, but merely a place to exist. I suppose that’s the best way to describe my life recently.

Merely existing.

I don’t pay attention to those around me, I don’t care to watch them live in ignorant bliss while they walk to the same places I’ve been. I don’t care to see them experiencing life for what it’s meant to be.

It makes me jealous. I don’t want to be jealous; I want to be one of them too.

I want to see the beauty, feel the highs of the city air.

But all I get is the intense emptiness within my chest. It’s almost an aching pit within me, like someone is squeezing my heart and holding it too tightly.

It’s a foolish thought, but I sometimes wish I could travel back in time, and not go to the restaurant that fateful night. That way, I could have avoided the heartbreak, and the loneliness that lingers. I could have felt fulfilled in a way, living like everyone else in their ignorant bliss.

But I know it wasn’t going to last much longer anyway.

You can tell when someone is pulling away from you. They suddenly start talking less, become busier with other things, other people; they no longer have time for you.

I could tell he was going to leave, but I chose to ignore it for the sake of still having someone to turn to in this massive city. It was foolish, there’s no denying it.

Now, I’m the only person I have. My friends were his friends, but ultimately, they were with him before me, so they’re only his friends now. I have no family here either, so I’m truly alone. I’m my own company.

At least, for now. In this moment, in the center of this street, I am alone.

But, when I walk down a little farther, taking a right and a left, I’ll have company for an hour. Then, I will go back to my place and be alone again for a week. But I’ll be going back to see this person next week, too. And the week after that.

I’m a bit intimidated.

I’ve been getting used to being alone, and the thought of talking to someone is weirdly frightening now.

It’s for the best though.

This walk is giving me plenty of time to prepare, to try and get me to enter that office.

Just a few more steps, and I won’t be alone.

There’s a nice-looking gentleman sitting at the desk, he’s probably going to walk me to the room where I’ll meet this person.

The person being my therapist.

Sure enough, I’m being led to the room, a dark oak door being the only separation between myself and the first person I will have had a conversation with in weeks.

A muffled voice invites me in, and I’m met with the bright face of my therapist. Her name is Theresa.

I can tell she’s trying to make me as comfortable as possible, but I’m finding it tough to even look in her direction. Finding light in your darkest times can be blinding and disorienting.

I missed her question, so I clear my voice, and speak for the first time in weeks,

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

She smiles gently, her eyes shaping into crescent moons.

“I asked how you are, it appears that you walked here in the rain.”

I look down at my clothes, noticing now that they are very visibly soaked. The cold didn’t faze me before. I look back to her, taking in a deep breath before speaking.

“Truth be told, I have never been so goddamn lonely.”