Coffee

Part Forty-Five: No One

If you would ask me to describe loneliness, the best thing I could say, is it's quiet.

It's calm.

It's controlled.

It's uncomplicated.

And.

It's a different kind of comfort.

I always liked being alone and I always thought it was because it was simple.

But.

Now I think I liked it because when you're alone, you never have to compromise or argue or try. You don't need to deliberate whether to do one thing or another. You don't need to consider other people's feeling. You can control everything without having to ask permission or check in.

I've always liked being alone.

Yet lately- since Max- I find it bothersome.

I find it bleak.

I find it too quiet.

I find it painful.

I find it makes me sad.

Why? Why has loneliness changed?

Waking up this morning, the sun poking through the small windows at the top of the wall, I realize that waking up alone any more is just aweful. Looking at my phone that fell beside my couch, I find that it's already Thursday.

I slept through two straight days? How is that even possible? Looking at my phone, no one has called me or texted me. Did they even know I was missing?

Trying to sit up, I feel sore and my head is pounding from the sudden change in position. I remember the last time I sleep more than even 14 hours. I was a wreck for days afterward. The human body usually can only take 7-8 hours of good solid sleep. Anything more is over kill and a sign of a bigger problem usually. But I'm fine.

Pushing myself off the couch, My feet wobble slightly and my stomach growls from lack of food and water. My mouth is absolutely parched and I have a ringing in my ears. Staggering, I literally crawl up the stairs and out to my kitchen. Bracing myself on the wall, I try to stand up and make my way the refrigerator. Finding milk, I grab the cereal from the cupboard and a bowl and spoon. Pouring the Honey Bunches of Oats into the bowl, I pour my milk over, barely able to hold the gallon contain with one hand- I unsteadily pour it. After putting the milk back, I sit at the island counter and push the flakes down into the milk to soften them. As I eat, I notice that there's a good five inches of snow out side on my back patio. The bushes and shrubs are flocked and there are still flakes coming down.

I always loved when it snowed. It was always my favorite time of year, because soon, people would put up Christmas lights and decorations for Christmas. I could careless about the presents- even as a kid- I've always just loved the look of the holidays. Looking at my phone, it's at 4% and frankly, if it does, it's does. I'm not rushing to plug it in only to have no one reach out to me.

After breakfast- which more or less upset my stomach, I head back downstairs, shutting the door behind me as I go. The quietness screams in my ears and I decide to let it stay quiet instead of covering it up with music or television. I set my phone down on the coffee table and Just stare at all the pictures on the wall. Most of them are of Mo and I- some are of his college friends. There's a few from concerts we went too when we first started dating. His diplomas and physicians license are hung up over the short bookcase. Going over to it, I find the books well dusted and frankly undesirable to me. Looking around, there's a lot down here that I don't care for. The pool table for one. Only got for Mo for his birthday- cost me a grand and was a pain in the arse getting it down here to set up. The couch and armchairs are over worn and uncomfortable. The television and stereo are outdated and his consoles are practically ornaments. Opening the closet, I find his clothes and shoes untouched and unwrinkled.