Everyday isn’t amazing. Some are filled with turmoil, sadness and tears.
In the bathtub of his downtown loft, Rico laid fully submerged with his head above water staring up at the tile ceiling lost in thought.
He spoke out loud under his breathe…..
What the hell do I do? Where do I go? How do I help? Could I have prevented………..this?
His mind raced….. I should’ve answered the phone. I should’ve called more. I should’ve told him what he meant to me. How much he’s inspired me. How he’s like family. How seeing him was always a special occasion.
Rico slid his hands over his eyes and rolled up to his knees. The bath water was getting cold and Rico’s heart was slow to beat. He’d pray but when something terrible happens you lose belief in a higher power. Anger filled his cold veins, which was an unfamiliar feeling to Rico.
The picture on his bathroom wall reading “There ain’t no mountain high enough” was mocking him and Rico felt hunted but knew this wasn’t about him. It was about someone else.
Given the circumstances it was peaceful laying in silence. There aren’t many moments in life where there isn’t a TV on, radio playing, iPad within reach or something to Google. He enjoyed the silence but was tormented by what happened the night before.
Rico’s cell phone starts ringing and he’s reluctant to answer but picks up because he didn’t yesterday.
The silence has ended.
Hey Buddy, how are you?
Don’t call me buddy….we’re adults and I’m not five.
I’m sorry man, just feeling emotional, says Rico
It’s okay. I’ll let you go.
No. I need to talk. I don’t know how this could happen. He was fine a week ago.
There was dead silence from Hank. Rico repeated his name several times
Hank, Hank, Hank.
Rico heard a dial tone, did Hank hang up on him?
Forward on, Rico moved on with his day. He had no appetite for breakfast due to grieving. Hoping to feel better he pulled himself together, shit, showered, shaved and went into the city for a distraction.
The sun was shining and fog blurred the blue sky from the chill in the air. Rico popped into a coffee shop he rarely goes to called Share. Taking a seat in a bar stool at the front of the shop, Rico sits next to an older gentleman with grey hair coming out the sides of his brown beret.
Rico orders his coffee black and grasps the mug with both hands seeking comfort.
Slrrp, Slrrp, Slrrp……..
What’s on your mind? Asks the old man.
Do you ever feel like you’re going through life with no mission, just rolling in the wind?
Sure. Is there something wrong with that?
I guess not. I just wish there were a direct purpose in my life.
Doesn’t that make it exciting. What do you think your purpose is?
I don’t know and that’s what sucks, says Rico muffled with his head down
What’s really going on? Asks the old man.
I found out last night I lost a good friend.
I’m sorry to hear that.
Is there more going on? Asks the old man.
My fiend. He tried calling me before he died. I didn’t pick up because I was shaving. I tried calling right after. He didn’t answer. Why didn’t he answer?
I obviously don’t don’t know that, but I’m sure your friend wouldn’t want you feeling bad for not picking up. You can’t worry about what was going on in your friend’s mind or what others think of you for that matter. We’re all living our own movie in our heads. You can’t take what you believe others might think about you to heart, because they’re more concerned about themselves. Keep that in mind….
We’re all living in our own movie.