Notes From the Side Margin, №2

Today wasn’t an easy day.

I was feeling low; even the bright sun couldn’t warm my spirit.

Every minute brought another tick of loneliness as I sat on the couch, wallowing.

Half the time I wasn’t sure why and other moments I just pitied my existence.

Depression comes and goes, like a slow moving tide gliding across dense, sopping sand.

I tried so hard to distract myself, hoping I could get ahead of the impending clouds looming behind me.

Laundry, lunch, sweeping the floor. Clearly I needed a new dish drain and shower liner as well. Four cigarettes and a large coffee were meant to relieve my troubles, but it turns out they only heighten the anxiety.

Here is where instead of being unable to think, I can’t stop. I think about things I’ve done wrong, goals I’ve never reached, dreams I’ve let slip by and the unanswered text I sent someone three days ago.

Days like today are exhausting. It’s as if I’m screaming while riding a roller coaster, but no one will let me get off.

Days like this, I wish they would end. Time would speed up and eventually loosen it’s grip.

They say you should cherish every moment. Live each day like it’s your last. Funny, these days I wish it was the last.

Then suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

A man with a baseball cap, silver sunglasses and a ceramic mug full of sour beer was standing before me.

Days like today I forget that anyone is around.

This man, is my friend.

“Wanna hang out?”

I can honestly say I didn’t want to, but what did I have to lose?

We didn’t do much of anything really. He talked about his day while I sipped the wine I brought to his apartment. He raved about the cartoon show Rick and Morty, and proceeded to play random episodes to emphasize the hilarity he couldn’t imitate.

Later we decided we should probably eat. We didn’t have the means to make dinner, so Wendy’s was a clear alternative.

We kept the windows down while cruising through town. Finally, the spring air filled my lungs. It was sweet and comforting.

On the way back he asked, “You know Bohemian Rhapsody don’t you?”

Of course I do. It’s the only song that I will sing at the top of my lungs.

I can’t sing a word on key, but he told me he couldn’t either. He said he didn’t know how to sing, until he stopped caring. That’s how he perfected the art.

On a day like today, that was the most logical thing I had ever heard.

Because in the end,

Nothing really matters, to me….