My Dearest friends; Today I write to you to let you know that this will be the happiest day I’ll ever have. For I now know what I have longed for all my life and now it is in my hands. I have found her, and she has chosen me. I will tell you all what happened, and you will understand the reasons of my late decision. Most will be appalled but not to worry. I take these steps with the upmost joy in my heart, for I know that I will never be alone again.
I’m not attractive. I am a short man at 5’4”. I began to bald at the age of thirteen, and my frame has always been described as “gangly.” It’s with no surprise in my childhood I was the subject of quite a bit of ridicule. The bullying continued as did the frenzy of my tormentors until I never stepped foot in school again. This made me awkward at the best of times. I cringed at human interaction, waiting to be struck or rejected. This, as you can imagine, did not make me successful with the opposite sex. I’ve been at the best of times invisible and at the worst a joke.
The only respite I’ve found was in my trailer. The plot for which I rented in the backyard of a man who inherited his parent’s several properties. His family had many homes at a time when Idaho is in full swing of a living crisis. Renting out backyards to house the poor was a way for him to earn extra cash. For me it meant I wasn't homeless. To them who have, more will be given I suppose.
I worked in a call center. My job was to be verbally abused by “Karens” demanding help with hunks of plastic they could neither understand or afford. Phones, laptops, tablets and more. Any gadget the TV told them to buy, only to complain in my ear about how worthless everything was.
Yet in my trailer I was finally alone. I would play on my laptop whatever MMO I could get my hands on, typing away pretending to be some hero from a distant land. Role playing on those servers let me be anyone. Everyone. And so I got a break from my existence.
One such time in the dead of night, I sat within my trailer. The hotspot on my phone wasn't working so I was robbed of what little time I could spend online. I’d have been in a far more foul mood yet I was too exhausted. So I sat, staring out the window of my dingy fifth wheel looking into the night sky.
I thought of how I would have fared in other times. Undoubtedly, I’d be prey to some wild animal in the jungles, or a measly peasant in a field. Yet maybe, just maybe before I died of dysentery, I could hope to find a friend.
A voice snapped me from my thoughts. A song in the night air. Somber tune with all the rhythm and flow of a charming waltz. That music in my ears rang romantic and inviting. Intrigued, with nothing else to do, curiosity got the better of me and I left to go and see.
I locked my trailer, snuck through the back gate and listened. Sure enough I heard more. I zipped my jacket to keep out the frigid air, walking down the sidewalk to inspect the music further. I’d creep down the asphalt, freeze at the sound and listen, moving on like a hound toward a delightful scent.
I reached a corner by the highway. That beautiful voice continued and yet I could not discern from which direction. The song enthralled me, beautiful and feminine. With no small throb in my heart, I stood there, the delightful fantasy that she only sang for me.
The song was cut short by a screech of brakes. A horn blared in my ears and out of blind instinct I dove into the grass beside me. A car tore down the road, swerving as it veered around the corner. A giant SUV that if I had not leaped to safety, would have taken me off this earth.
Wiping the dirt off my jeans and jacket I looked around to see a cross with flowers where I stood moments ago. I was not the only victim this road had tried to take. Still, I listened more and yet the song had ended. So I muttered in my depression and decided to return home.
A week passed. More dismal calls from entitled people. More awkward attempts at bridging the void. My lack of conversational skills left those in the break room looking at me with mild contempt. I even heard a rumor that I was retarded as they so gently put it. I would say that I had never felt so dismal and alone and yet that was not the case. My only friends I would converse with were via the chat online. Small instructions on how to get a piece of loot. Or a wave command to my character or people offering gold pieces for a pretend girlfriend. I even considered making a female character, not so much for the in-game currency but I was desperate for attention.
And yet deep in my nightly clacking away on that keyboard I heard it again. The lone beautiful voice, carrying a note that struck within my soul. The hair on my skin raised and my body knew before my mind dared to hope if it could be her again.
I listened further and there she was. Immediately, I put my computer to sleep, muting all sound to listen. I had to know where she hid. I dared not consider at just what I would say, or what disgust she would have at the sight of me. It did not matter. Her call was the only beautiful thing in my life and if I could only see the lips which sang that song, I could go through the rest of my life a dream.
I stepped and listened. Ever eager to find my hunt like a hound on the scent of game. I even smiled, the first time in years as the cold air prickled my skin, mingling with the goosebumps her music gave. I had never felt such joy as I did on that night.
I crept through streets, wandering the alleys. Stepped behind backyards and storefront alike. Until finally I found it all around me. Unable to discern its direction, I searched in desperation, until I looked beneath me.
There I was atop the small enclosure. A bridge for vehicles above a deep canal. Its waters a cold torrent. Rapids of the city, churning with promise of ill intent. And yet, the further I looked, down in those treacherous waters I clearly heard her song. That beautiful sound calm and soothing, brushing away that edge in your nerves that pulls you away from peril. That call of the void, the sudden urge to jump was on me. And yet that flit of the id remained, strengthened by that wonderful music. Its sound spoke not a word, but in the melody I heard promises. Promises of a dark unending. No more pain, no loneliness or sorrow. Never would I feel ugly at the bottom of that ravine. Only pressure, a little hurt, a gasp for air unanswered, and then I would never feel anything at all. Left to rest in our inevitable cold embrace.
A siren flared behind me, snapping me from my thoughts. An officer, with lights of red and blue flashed around me in the dark. His flashlight blinded me as he stepped closer. “You alright there bud?” The voice was of grave concern. He was a tall man, military cut of hair and shoulders broad. His imposing figure edged closer, circling around to come between me and the waters below.
Caught off guard I could scarcely speak. I stammered in my embarrassment, caught in vulnerability. He asked if I’d been drinking, to which I denied. I mumbled some lie of looking for my phone. Stammering whatever I could to make him leave.
“Okay, just make sure you get home safe. Do you want a lift home? I’ll let you sit in the front.”
I declined. His pity was endearing, yet his kindness fell on deaf ears. She sang for me no more. Her voice was gone from my ears and I knew he was at fault. I of course had been far too cowardly to voice any annoyance yet I would do anything I could to leave.
I headed home, lay in a bed fashioned from a trailer couch, as the numbness within me gave way to sleep.
Days. Unending drudgery of the clicking of phones. The same repeated greeting. Over and over. The same endless staring into the distance on my meager breaks. My soul doing anything to dissociate as life and time molested me. And yet all that I could stand, if only she sang again. Weeks, a month. Nothing. In my hours there at home I never looked at my laptop. Only listening at the door like an eavesdropper to the silence all around. Yet all I listened, she sang to me no more.
I began to drink. Cheap malt liquor from the gas station down the street dribbled down my throat. The only thing I could find with enough alcohol content to numb me in the dark. Sitting on my floor in boxers with a blanket on my shoulders, drinking the night away in darkness. Looking across the room I eyed that small slab of vinyl that passed as a kitchen. Drunk and miserable I stared at the counter drawer. The despair swelled within me and I stumbled forward, grasping at the handle to reveal what I knew inside. A kitchen knife, dusty and unused, glimmering in the moonlight as I stared. The devil in my mind whispered that it could end.
“You do not have to go to work tomorrow. You don’t have to be ignored. All of this can end. If you have the strength to do so.” And that was when I heard her. She sang for me again. Oh thank whatever God there was, she returned to me. And then I realized the truth.
No one in this world could ever love me. No. The woman of my dreams in that night hour was more lovely and kind than anything I could hope. She sang at last to set me free. The voice of death herself, her song a promise within. Twice she lured me, winking with her tone, coaxing with curled finger. My hesitancy spurned her to move along. Twice she pursued, and twice I let her down. I will not do so again.
In Boise there is a glowing cross in the hills on the edge of town. It looks over the city where lovers go to spend their time alone. I go now with a rope to hang from the spectacle. If she has chosen me as her lover, then I will at least give her a view. I thank you all for reading my last words.
For now, I go to her
…and I will never be alone again.