He is Numb.

He is Numb.

He feared he’d never be there again. There he lies, staring; staring at the ceiling thoughts racing while at the same time his mind is blank. He wonders why he is there alone and forgotten. Why is he alone at a time like this?

It’s nearly morning, but why should that matter? There is no reason for him to get up. He rolls over slightly and thinks of her. No, she is not the one who got away, just the one he never pursued. He was young and she was not. He was alive and excited. She was apprehensive and disingenuous. He was a good listener, she needed to talk. When she didn’t need to talk she often made him laugh. He and she were almost a perfect couple or at least they should have been.

She, wanting something more, but not of him, went in search of it. Not having the ability to express himself, he sat and watched. This is what is on his mind when all else fails. This is what he considers, when there is nothing to look forward to and nothing to look back on, because he never made a move and with this he lies in bed.

He tosses, he turns, and he settles. His mind is clear now breath is calm, he is thirsty though. He rises from bed and stumbles to the kitchen. He is fully dressed from the evening passed. He makes his way into the kitchen. He flips the light switch even though he knows nothing will happen. His lights have been out for some time now. Habits are hard to break, flipping of a useless switch, drinking when all else fails. Obtaining a glass he is fine, drinking his water he is content and as if it never stopped he thinks of her once more. Moving from water to something a little more suitable for this feeling, his habits emerge once more. Drown the feelings he never let swim. Drown the memories of her so they will not resurface.

She was meant for great things. He was meant for mediocrity. He tries to imagine these things, involving himself, involving them together. He cannot. They are not together, nor have they ever been, or ever will be. Thinking of her, he remains unable to sleep. With this he drinks some more. He is now located on his kitchen floor, he lays. Lying awake he tries to stop thinking of her, of anything. He cannot. His only remedy is to continue drinking. So he continues.

Proof doesn’t matter when you have none of your existence. Proof doesn’t matter when you intend to consume the entire bottle and that he did intend on doing such. Stumbling to his feet from the cold harsh floor he makes way to the other end of the hall. He moves slowly and missteps. He hiccups and he burps. He fumbles for the door and struggles to open it. It is a struggle he chooses not to compete with; he places his back to the wall and slowly slides to the ground. Placing his head in his palm he sobs, and he cannot think while he cries and he is happy for that.

His mind is finally clear as he passes out on the floor outside his bathroom door. He is no longer thinking of her and he is no longer able to think. As he lay there, covered in his tears and dressed in his clothes from the night past he is no longer able to feel. He is asleep, he is numb.

I've been a good little worker bee, I deserve a gold star.

It may be too hard, to take it easy -
It may be too easy not to work so hard.

I never thought I'd be this alone.

I want to be with someone who cares for me -
Family loves, but doesn't care.