This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. A mantra of denial on repeat on his head, echoing over and over as he pressed harder on the pedal, going 80 now on the highway, falling back on that one line because it was all he had left to fall back on. Now he was screeching into a parking space 3 blocks from the restaurant. Now he was sprinting down the sidewalk, his throat chafing in the dry, cold air. Now he stood outside the restaurant, panting gray clouds, frozen to the spot with a paralyzing fear. Or was it despair? You don’t want to go in there. No, he didn’t, but he needed to see it. No you don’t. Just walk away, he’s already won. Don’t look. He couldn’t stop himself, he had to see it. He stepped up to the window, peering through the glbum.
He spotted them immediately, at a small table near the back. They were both laughing at some unheard joke, oblivious to him. Now he was talking and she was staring at him, enraptured. Watching her, he saw something in her eyes that made all the horrors of the day pale like a joke in comparison. He saw an adoration there, a rapport, that she had never looked at him with, not ever. He felt something inside him, some stunted but vital thing, shrivel up and die. He tore his eyes away and bent over, stomach clenching, but nothing came out. He remembered vaguely that he hadn’t eaten all day, as if it were someone else’s body. He staggered away, dazed and shell-shocked.
The rest of the night he experienced in a jumbled sequence of hazy scenes, nightmarish vignettes. In one scene he was sitting at a bar, asking the bartender for another round. In another he was slurring his story to another bar-goer; a story so ridiculous he could only respond with a bemused smile. He remembered venturing out into the cold when the bartender refused to pour him any more, and he remembered lying down in the backseat of a cab, watching the street lights pbum overhead. He remembered throwing up into his toilet, gripping the edges tightly as the room spun around him.
He remembered being roughly shaken awake. He couldn’t have been asleep for more than an hour, and he was still blind drunk. He didn’t even open his eyes when he heard the stranger’s voice; there was no fight left in him.
“I just walked in and he was sprawled out on my bed, Thanks for coming out here so quickly!”
“Hey, no problem, it is our job.” Another man’s voice, a police officer. “Ugh, he reeks. You may want to wash your sheets.”
The trespbumer laughed. “Yeah, I plan to. What do you think, he had one too many shots and just wandered into the wrong house?”
“I think it’s more likely he doesn’t have a house. It sure got cold out tonight, poor bugger. He can sleep in our holding cell tonight. After that, guess he’s just going to have to try and make do. You should really lock your door when you go out for the night.” The cop grabbed him from beneath his arms and lifted him upright.
“I know,” said the trespbumer, sounding contrite. “I usually do, but I was so nervous when I left tonight I must have forgotten. I proposed to my girlfriend tonight! Well, I guess she’s my fiancee now.”
“Well hell, Congratulations!” The officer said, as he maneuvered David into a standing position. David stood limply, staring straight ahead. He felt dead inside. The cop began to urge David to walk forward, leading him to the hallway.
“Thanks again for taking care of this so neatly!” The trespbumer said cheerily from behind him.
“You’re very welcome. Good luck with your girl!”
The cop led him outside, where the cold night air bit at his exposed arms and legs.
“So how about it then,” the cop said. “Do you have a house of your own?”
“This is my house.” Dave replied listlessly.
“Right, didn’t think so.” He opened the back door of his cruiser and Dave crawled inside.
“We have an empty holding cell down at the precinct where you can sleep tonight,” the officer said. “It’s not that comfortable but I can give you a blanket. Give you a chance to warm up and sober up.” He seemed to be waiting for a response, but Dave said nothing. The rest of the ride was silent.
He stayed quiet even when they arrived at the station, and when the officer gave him a rough, wooly blanket. He walked like a zombie into the holding cell and collapsed to the floor, curling up and pulling the blanket up around him. He slipped mercifully into sleep.
—-
The next day the sky was overcast and a gray chill hung in the air. It was an hour and a half walk to where he wanted to go, and he took his time, looking around him as he walked through the city streets, feeling as if he had been reborn into an alien world. He felt invisible, and though he scanned the eyes of everyone he pbumed by, but no one would meet his eyes. He wondered idly if it had always been that way. Halfway there, he stopped to rest on a nearby bench, stretching out his aching legs. Nobody sat next to him.
Finally he had reached his destination. He stood on the sidewalk for a long time, his eyes playing over the familiar brick face of the house that belonged to the person that used to be him. He walked slowly up the front walk and rang the doorbell, hearing the old familiar chime from the outside this time. He already felt like a stranger.
The trespbumer showed no hint of surprise when he opened the door.
“What do you want?” he asked with a hint of annoyance.
David laughed dully. “What do I want? I want my life back. I want my job and my house and my girl. But I’m not going to get it, am I?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so. I just want one little thing from you and I’ll never bother you again. Just tell me why. Why did you take my life from me?”
The trespbumer smiled. “Did I really take your life from you? Your house, your money, your girl… all those things… well, that’s all they are, things.”
“That’s bull**** and you know it,” David snarled. “I may as well have never existed in the first place. You’ve taken everything and everyone away from me. Why?”
“Because you weren’t using it.” He reached out to close the door. “I’m afraid that’s the only answer you’re going to get. You came here for acknowledgement, and I acknowledged you. It’s time for you to leave now. Think of this as a golden opportunity to shine for the first time in your life. People with less than you have climbed their way to the top from nothing.’
“You’ve condemned me to death.” David said bleakly.
The trespbumer smiled, but his eyes were sad. “I guess I have, then. Goodbye.”
David walked aimlessly for a few blocks, then, finding a clean spot, collapsed to the ground, scooting his back against a wall. He sat there, bunched up, his head buried in his knees. He sat there for a long time. He didn’t move even when the mist turned into a drizzle. He didn’t move when the drizzle turned into rain, beads of cold water dripping off his hair and running in rivulets down his back.
