Girl alone at a bar, it’s not an uncommon thing for me, and so I ordered the darkest beer I saw on tap. And while enjoying it, the bartender tried making up conversation…
“How come such a pretty lady always sits here alone?”
“I don’t like spontaneous plans, yet I make decisions like that all the time. I was studying and decided it was suddenly beer time.” I said with a grin.
He smiled politely and said “or do you just like being alone?”
Alone. That word just kept lingering inside me like a bee whom you can’t seem to catch because it got into your car as you were driving mindlessly and now you’ve got to keep driving but OH you can hear that buzz. Get it? No?
Alone. I once read something along the lines of “that who enjoys solitude it’s either a god or a monster”. I know I am clearly not a goddess, that option is out of the question. But, have I become a monster? What’s a monster anyway? I know some people in my life have left me scars that make them monster-worthy nominees. But, have I become one of those? I know I’ve hurt people, but I also know that if something’s off and I want to cut people off I’ve let them know and I’ve been clear. Clear cut can also leave monster caliber marks I guess. Have I become a monster?
Alone. That’s the word that’s been stuck in my hear since that encounter yesterday afternoon. And then, that waitress smile: if I WAS, indeed, a monster… I’d devour him in a heartbeat. So, wait, what have I become?