Mr. Lonely

For most part, regrettably, I'm alone.

Today started off pretty gloomy - after showers with an overcast sky, cold air draping over the city. To add on to the gloominess, I was on my way to release someone from detention. Oh, no, I'm not complaining about that having to do it; I'm just saying, it's not exactly a very joyful thing to do. It's not my first time, but every time I do it I feel a little sad inside, because even though some of them really deserved it, there are some who were in there just because somewhere, something went wrong and in a twist of events and luck pushed too far they end up in there. Nobody could really expect when it will happen.

His parents and friends were there to pick him up. I briefly spoke to his parents and got to know a little more. I also came to know that they visited him once every week. When I went in there to get him, I could hear in his voice that he was excited. And true enough, he was, when he saw them there waiting for him. They offered to fetch me too, and we left hurriedly.

Throughout the journey I felt detached from reality. There were no tears, no sad story, no grievances, no complains, just genuine elation in knowing that he is moving along to something new and leaving that place behind. There was joy in the conversations with his friends, and a quiet appreciation, if it actually could be felt, that permeated the interior of the car. I was silent throughout.

And then I remember my own journeys. Just as silent. Just as inert. Just as nonparticipating.

I am not ashamed to admit that I'm jealous of happy families, close friends that can almost do everything together, childhood buddies who have seen all of you, known all of you, but still want to hang around you so much because they love you. Where can I find this feeling of bliss? Or have I been locking myself out for too long to ask for it anymore?

There's a time for change, and I am getting closer to it.