The Turmoil of Foil

It is well past eleven.

The heavy silence of the night was interrupted only by the occasional chirping of crickets, the distant sound of a passing railroad train, and the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting my window. Yet, it remained quiet. The kind of quiet that settled in the air, like a thick fog that surrounded me, constricting my lungs, as if there was no room for air to pass through.

In a way, the silence didn't bother me much. I find solace in my solitude, a rare moment of peace amidst a world of chaos.

But within that fog comes another feeling of emptiness; my isolation from the world, living alone in my apartment. The loneliness suffocated me.

I can remember when this place was less lonely, and now it only serves as a reminder of what I lost. I couldn't shake the feeling.

The clock ticked past midnight, and just when I started to succumb to the sweet embrace of slumber, my cell phone buzzed.

I had a feeling who it was. Although curious, I checked the message.

Yolanda: 'What R U doing RN?'

What were they calling me at this hour for?

Sighing, I responded with a quick text: 'zzz Talk 2U l8r.'

I felt guilty about it, but if I'm going to do this right, I'll have to talk to them face to face.

Only a few people remain close to me, including her, and I have been struggling to maintain connections since it seemed like a fleeting moment of joy that fades away like nothing.

I desire change, something to break the monotony of my existence.

It won't be easy, and certainly wouldn't be pretty, but it's the only way I know to make amends and move forward.