Simply A Sacrifice

Chapter 30: Did you miss me?

Well, as it turns out, freedom is not all it's cracked up to be. I mean, sure, the first few days were great. Blissful even. Days stretched before me, long and open. Armed with Jim's top tier credit card, I had decided to take myself shopping. I deserved to spend some of the money they'd earned with  their deal with the devil, didn't I?

The first place that had caught my eye served one of my favourite things in the whole wide world - the essence of life. Most people also know it as coffee. I stood in the queue to buy a grande coffee freezo.  People in suits yelled into their phones about who forgot to submit the tender by the deadline or why they had to work overtime for the third week in a row. Carefully put together teenagers batted their eyelids at their crushes from across the room.

"Should I go say hi to her?" One whispered excitedly to her friend.

"Chill. We just got here, you don't want to seem too eager," the friend replied.

I tell you, surrounded by humans, I felt positively normal for a second. Should this have been my life? Coffees with crushes and quick espressos before meetings? 

Oh well. I shrugged and tapped the credit card against the screen. No pin required, just the way I liked it. 

I sipped on the freezo, a spring in my step, as I wandered through the mall. Time to do some damage. I needed clothes, toiletries and a bag to put it all in. Tap. Tap. Tappity tap. My smile grew with every transaction - as did the number of shopping bags hanging from my arm.

Just when I thought maybe I had gotten enough for one day, my eyes fell on the iStore. Believe it or not, the point of this purchase was not to break the bank (although I hoped it at least would put a dent in the bank). It made sense for me to have a cellphone, right? For safety reasons. Or something. 

Yes,  it was indeed necessary. Did it have to be an iPhone? Probably not. But good old dad is paying, so why the hell not? 

As great as finally getting my own stuff was, I was starting to feel a bit guilty. The joys of retail therapy were already wearing off and I hadn't even left the mall. Did I really need all this stuff? I'd survived fine without it so far. If anything, now I had to haul it around with me wherever I went. There were so many people out there that had so little. 

Using my brand new iPhone, I took to the internet. After about two hours of browsing (and naturally, another coffee), I had made up my mind. Three payments to help with three major issues - one to help clean the plastic out of our oceans, one to help feed the hungry and one to support animals in shelters. It wasn't nearly enough, but it was a start. 

Back at "home", I hopped onto the family Netflix account and started exploring. Three days of takeout and binge watching later, my eyes felt tired and dry. My neck was stiff from a number of twisted and weirdly comfortable (at the time) positions on the couch. Yet something was missing. I felt annoyingly unfulfilled. 

Next, I tried reading. Jogging. Yoga. I taught myself to play "Can't Help Falling in Love" on Kendra's ukulele. I tried out meditation, lasting a total of 5 minutes. I baked macaroons that looked vaguely like the ones in the Youtube video. If you closed both eyes. They tasted great though!

I practiced doing handstands. I tried to teach myself how to play chess.  I played a game of battleships against myself. I won. 

Eventually, I had to admit that I was incredibly bored. It had been a week of minimal contact with other people and I missed it. I'd always had minimal contact with people, so it really made no sense.

Or maybe it's not 'people', but a 'person' you're missing. 

"Shut up, brain," I muttered. Oh yes, I talk to myself regularly now. This is the insanity of solitude!