Alone

I was sitting in my usual bar, all alone. It was still early so not a lot of other people were there, still it felt like the place was crowded because I was sitting next to a group of people who seemed to be trying to make as much noise as possible. They were distracting me. Distracting my thoughts that I had been trying to gather the whole damn day.

Now, why was I alone? It was a Saturday night and people didn’t just go drinking by themselves on a Saturday night. And it wasn’t like I didn’t have any friends to hang out with. No, I was alone because I had felt like something was pulling me to the city. Or just away from home, for that matter. I had to get away from my enclosure. I had to feel free to think. And I couldn’t think with a group of friends around. So there I sat, all alone, a gin tonic in front of me. But my thoughts wouldn’t come. I just couldn’t think, couldn’t wrap my head around all the shit that had been stuck up there for days, couldn’t get my mind to focus for even one fucking second. It was driving me crazy. Every single sound kept me from concentrating, every little movement around me made me feel like I was at war. I kept nervously turning my head to look at the people who were now storming the bar after their shifts had ended. The group next to me seemed to be getting louder with every minute and I knew that I had to get out of there. I had to get out on the street, light a cigarette and try to feel like myself again.

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