Alone

I stroll at night often, as often as I like, to clear my head and breathe the air in an environment altogether solitary. For once the sun does set and allows the moon to rise, so too do those about me in the city streets hide themselves away after the manner of the sun, and leave me to my own devices. I have always found aloneness pleasantly appealing, possibly attractive even, drawing me to seek out a dark corner containing neither light nor sound, rather than gravitating toward the sound of my fellow man’s voice or the warmth of his company.

For man is a creature that seeks the light and revels in the gathering of friends, drawn to such an event as one might draw near to a fire upon a cold evening. Indeed, it is as though the world around him oppresses his body and chills his very soul, and so by the hand of natural, compelling instinct, man does search high and low, yea, even to his own detriment, the presence, the sound, the sight of his, or her, fellows. Constantly they gather, exchanging words and gestures, laughter and thoughts. And every so often I see them from my darkened corner, or from my midnight shrouded street. They puzzle me, for though I clearly sat alone or passed down a darkened road, still they call to me, gesture to me, as though I have gone astray.

And truly, this does vex me. I walk this abandoned pavement because I chose this path. I pass unaccompanied because I asked for no confidante.

However, when such a cheerful invitation is given, I admit, I am not one to deny a friend a smile. After all, does not the face of a companion light when I join? Is not my hand pressed in friendship and my name called with warm expectation? It is as though I have unwittingly paid forth an unknown sum toward the contented gathered, such is the way their moods improve. Of course, I am under not blinded by overwhelming ego, not on a regular schedule at any rate, and so I see this happen when others join as well, as they add their smiles to the pot and their joyous tones to the air. All is right with the world! Celebration ensues! And sometimes I feel my heart warm. Sometimes I smile as I look upon the faces of my friends as we revel in comradeship and brotherly love.

But more often my smile is force. More often the joy I take is received through proxy. Rare is the occasion when a human voice does not oppress my ears. Rare is the time when an arm about my shoulder does not instill in me the desire to flee. So I excuse myself, feigning illness or blaming time or citing an early rising hour, anything so that I might extract myself from company, removing myself from their laughter, from their smiles. The moment the door closes or I turn the corner, I feel my mind return and my sanity seeps, with comfortable, ease back into my body as a laborer might return to his chair after a long, drawn day in the quarry. For now, finally, I am alone.

Give unto me a dark solitude, ask I. Direct me toward the moonless night pouring down a rain so cold that I might find escape from the voice of my fellow man, from his conversation, from his mannerism, from his presence, from the sound of his breaths, from the very sight of him upon the horizon, hand raised in greeting, mouth smiling in a comrade’s welcome. I do not wish to see him!

Let the black sky drive him from me and me from him while the chilling downpour will dampen his friendly manner so that he shall be disinclined to approach me. And should our paths cross in the dead of night, under the open, torrential skies, let the darkness cloak me from him, let the noise of rain upon the earth hide my footsteps from his ear. Then, if his eye by chance to rise, if he should note my nocturnal passing, let the oppressive blackness dissuade him from calling out, let the biting chill of rain lock his jaw, and let him pass me by, unmolested by his good cheer and warm companionship.

Shh! Listen… I hear not a single sound. Not a cough, not step, not a breath. Ah, peace. Oh, blessed tranquility. I am on a windless ocean that is as still as a lake. There is no ship on the horizon, no fish below, no bird above. I am here, only me.

And I am alone.