he wanders

He fits the key to the slot of his flat. Hoping, just hoping that someone would open it before he has to turn it. Hoping that the door would not be locked. He pauses for a second, two, and then he turns the key. The lock gives way. Locked, it most certainly was. As always.

The days he returned home to a family were long over. Open windows, doors, the scent of food cooking on the stove. Days gone by, years gone by. He wonders what took it all away. What changed things so fast, that it did not even inform him as it flew by. He wonders, whether he's been left behind. Wonders how he even came to be in the first place.

Family, the ever so important glass ball that people juggle along with the others. Many choose to drop it as life goes by and he wonders why. Are the other glass balls really as important as that? Does the fact that they are ALL 'glass balls' mean anything? Each is as fragile as the other he realises. Its just whether there are too many and which ones weigh heavier on your hands.

Sacrifices are hard choices to make. Its almost always between two or more things you want, but cannot have all of. He wanders over to the bathroom and turns on the shower. Cold, not hot, as per his norm. Just to feel the difference. Just to feel. Its been a long time since he has felt. A long time. The cold causes a chill to go through his spine. He smiles. Leans his head back into the shower, to let the cold water run over his face. And he begins to cry.

He reaches for the button. Turns off the shower. No tear stained face he thinks.

Expectations. To live up to. Failures, from the past. To forget. Obstacles. To overcome. Pressure, from everywhere. To ignore. Live it, he thinks. Life is, after all meant to be lived. The decisions made, solely yours and yours alone. Easier said than done isn't it? When even a minute, a second, can change a persons life entirely. Those same decisions. He stares into the mirror. Rubs his clean shaven chin and smirks. All the ironies of life.

Every single person is selfish in their own ways. Their own wants, needs and desires. The other person never matters. Family, he thinks again. Where are they? Why the ego, when this part of life required none? He dresses. A fresh shirt, cargo's and he was good to go. A fleeting look at the mirror as he passed assured him he looked fine. No one was around after all to tell him how he looked.

Putting on his sneakers, he started walking. The cold wind on his face. Yet, he seemed oddly distant and above such things as the wind at the moment. He smiled. And then he started running. He could feel. He was free. For how long he would run, he did not know. All he knew was that it kept him within himself.

he wanders.