Saturday, October 16, 2010
At the Party
He walked into the dining room. He was dressed a little odd. His shirt was from the nineteen fifties. His tie was ancient. His pants were from the nineteen eighties. But his haircut was up to date. It made him look interesting and odd, in touch and out of touch all at the same time. Or it made him look confused.
The party had been going on for quite a while already, but there was a place at the table. He saw it as an opportunity, so he sat down. He’d never met these people before, but he was kind of an outgoing person, sometimes. Other times, not so much. You could never tell.
He sat down. The people already sitting were in the middle of a conversation about life, you know, everyday things like: family, friends and relationships, entertainment and sports and art, their jobs and their kids and their feelings, which he found kind of interesting. He listened for a bit. As he listened, he felt like joining the conversation, so he looked for an opening. He was hoping to connect to these people on some level. He said...
“I’m a real mess. You wouldn’t believe. I’m depressed most of the time. But I have good days too, occasionally. I hate my job, sometimes, but I work hard at it. I feel like I’m persecuted by family and friends sometimes, and my coworkers, because they don’t really understand me. I admit, I don’t know how to handle life’s ups and downs without serious emotional trauma, but nobody is perfect, right? I mean, I’m not suggesting that I have all the answers or anything. It’s just that I have something to say. But I’m not always sure what it is.”
At this point, one of them felt sorry for him. Another one wasn’t sure what to make of what he said. It seemed kind of too personal given the circumstances. Another one liked his shirt, while another one preferred his haircut. Most of them weren’t really interested in what he has to say. He hadn’t really earned the right to be heard, maybe. Another one didn’t really hear him because they were thinking about something else. A few of them stared at him, vaguely.
After an uncomfortable moment, he said, “But God is good and he loves me.” He thought they’d respond to this, but they just went on talking together as if he wasn't there.
Peace to you.
© LW Publishing 2010