The People We Come to Be

It’s cold in my car. I drink my coffee, I blast my music to wake up, I sit in the normal traffic. It’s pouring rain.

I sit at my cubicle, I say good morning, we complain about Monday, we say the weekend was too short, what did she do, what did he do, we complain about the weather.

I check the job listings. I click on each one, you need five years experience, I’ve got three. You need a Masters degree, I’ve got none. I give up.

I go through the motions, I get my work done, I speak in meetings, I listen in others, I smile when needed, I reply with my best answers, I get by.

It continues to rain. I get sent on an errand. I don’t have an umbrella, my hair gets wet.

A man tells me the two things you need in your life are goals and God.

I don’t mention my Atheism.

I click around in my heels, a lady tells me I look nice, asks me how old I am, is shocked I’m only 21. “Are you even old enough to have a real job?” She laughs. I laugh back.

The commute out of my job is full of red brake lights, I blast my music, I try to wake up.

At the gym I run on the elliptical for an hour, I read my Kindle, I bike for half an hour, I stretch, I don’t look at anyone.

The commute home is full of angry, red brake lights, I sit amongst them. I smoke a cigarette, the window is down, the rain seeps in.

The guy I should have feelings for calls me, I answer, we talk, I feel obligated to make conversation.

I get home, I eat a grilled cheese, I pour myself a glass of wine, and then another, then another. Until I can’t find my way out. Until I stand in my shower, the water pouring over me, but I can’t feel it.

I can’t feel it.

Why can’t I feel?

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