a visit from an old friend | #18

It has been a while. The bar is packed. Cheap whiskey and shot glasses line up across the bar counter. There is a live band playing below average acoustic versions of pop songs. Laughter fills the air. It is a social get-together, the first in over two years. Everyone is dressed to the nines, eager to impress strangers who have no impact on their lives whatsoever on a night most would forget come the next working week. Then he walks in.

He’s spent months traveling to faraway lands and came back, toughened up through some military training, and kicked his ‘sad sack’ self off a cliff. Safe to say, on the surface, he looks like an entirely different person altogether.

His movements are slow, almost forced. It would have come off as confident to everyone else, but he couldn’t fool me. Not when I’ve known him my entire life. His smile is half-assed at best and his eyes look weary as he mesmerizes the people at the bar with his stories from his travels and military. Quickly he becomes the biggest shot in the bar. Everyone wants to have a drink with him and hear his otherworldly stories. Exclamations of ‘wow! you’re so brave, I could never do something like that’ fill the air. An hour or two passes, and the bar becomes quiet.

Everyone has had their turn with him, and there is nothing left to talk about. Groups of people hang around small tables, swaying to the song or scrolling social media feeds. Others engage in small talk along the bar. He goes off to the toilet.

‘Two years just for two hours of sharing. How disappointing. Surely there is something of value within you that was monumental? Or have you spent the past two years chasing tangible subjects to beef up your ‘cover self’ that you forgot to invest in yourself and the fundamental flaws in your mindset and character? How much have you really changed? Or have you even changed at all? Was there growth? Or was it all a façade, a desperate attempt at attaching personal growth to external experiences?’ I smirk.

The sparkle in his eyes disappeared. His eyebrows relaxed. He took a long breath and stormed out the toilet and the bar, up to a rooftop. The night breeze felt nice. He laughed, and it all came flooding back.

Hello old friend, welcome back.

#18 — Besoin de courage et de chance.