366: One Story Per Day (2024)

Day 143 - Whatever This Number Means

     Nathan was sitting by himself in the dimly lit café, sipping from a cup of cold black coffee. The sound of talking and clinking silverware all around him seemed far away, like the background of a drama he was no longer involved in. Gazing out the window, he observed individuals strolling past, holding hands, chuckling, engrossed in their realms of adoration and bonding. It all looked like a charade to him.

     Nathan once believed in love. He recollected the thrill of his initial kiss, the coziness of being hugged, and the silent vows of eternal love. That was a while ago, though. Those memories felt, now, like artifacts from another era, memories of a guy who was no more. His heart had slowly been eroded over the years by disappointment and the gradual loss of hope.

     He whispered to himself, "Love is nothing more than a delusion, a trick of the mind to ensure the species survives."

     Taking up his pen, he started writing in his journal, a habit he had formed to prevent his thoughts from going into a tailspin of hopelessness. His handwriting was exact and tidy, each letter bearing witness to his composed appearance that concealed the chaos inside.

     "Love is an illusion, a mirage in the desert of human existence. It promises an oasis but delivers only sand. We are conditioned to seek it, to crave it as if it holds the key to our happiness. But happiness, true happiness, is an internal state, independent of external validation."

     He stopped and studied the words on the page. Maybe they were harsh, but they seemed real. He'd seen too much, and experienced too much suffering, to think otherwise. It seemed impossible to believe in the concept of unconditional, selfless love.

     He had once given everything he had. For him, Emily had been everything. He believed that after meeting in college, the two ambitious and dreaming individuals went on to create a life together. It was not only their separation that crushed him; it was the careless way in which he left, as though their years together had been for nothing.

     He wrote, "Humans are inherently selfish. Our primary instinct is survival, and love often conflicts with that instinct. When push comes to shove, people will always choose themselves. It's not their fault; it's biology."

     A waitress came to replenish his coffee. "Anything else for you today, sir?"

     Nathan shook his head. "No, thank you."

     Nathan considered the philosophical ramifications of his ideas as the waiter left. If love was a myth, then why did people pursue it with such a passion? Why did they run the danger of disappointment and heartache? Maybe it was because the delusion of love offered some sort of purpose, a diversion from the inevitable loneliness that is human life.

     "We are born alone, we live alone, we die alone," he said. "Our connections with others are fleeting, temporary. They provide comfort, yes, but not permanence. The sooner we accept this, the sooner we can find peace within ourselves."

     Closing his journal, he took a drink of his now-warm coffee and enjoyed its bitter flavor. Though his perspectives were depressing, Nathan used them as a barrier to prevent more suffering. He observed a youthful pair outside, carefree and in the moment, as they shared a kiss beneath the streetlight. He used to be envious of them. Now, he felt only pity, knowing the likely end of their story.

     He turned to go and took one last look at his journal. Despite his disillusionment, a small part of him, buried deep, still yearned for connection

      Perhaps that was the cruelest trick of all, the heart's stubborn refusal to fully abandon hope.