It’s 17.00 on Monday, and I’m in Starbucks.
I’m here most days.
I sit here because I’m lonely.
It’s weird because even here I sit, on my own, perched on a stool – but – I’m not at home, rattling around, working at my desk in a painful consuming silence.
I’m here because there are people, the staff all know me and never fail to make me smile. I have a ‘usual’ that’s already jotted on the order pad before I’ve even said “Hi” to them.
I should be happy, I’m a single parent of two, I work at home, I see my kids, but they don’t *live* with me. I have a lot of free time. I’m effectively ‘living the dream’ – it’s not a dream, it’s just so painfully lonely.
The people conversing around me right now, the random folks just passing by, lost in their conversations keep me sane. It’s a nice bustling noise, even though stuff here is winding down, it’s better than the echoes of my keyboard.
My plan for tonight? Eat a ready meal and plow through Parks and Rec some more.
I should feel happy I’m lacking a ‘ball and chain’, but – I’m not. Life is so painfully empty so much of the time now.
I’m even wanting to roll back to this time yesterday when I was telling off my overtired children. Instead, I’m writing this, and drawing out my Latte as long as possible, just so I don’t have to sit at home, thinking.
I didn’t imagine life would be like this, and yes, to some extent, it’s probably *ALL* my fault. We make our own paths in life, and the one I’ve furrowed is particularly pathed with clusterfucks.
One day, I’ll get it right.
But for now, my name is Kip Hakes, and I sit in Starbucks because I’m lonely.
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