It was a late evening. I found myself sitting inside my car, staring at the dark horizon of the pacific coast. I was there alone, pondering about my life’s decisions. I was wondering how come I have gotten myself in this situation far long. Far long enough I couldn’t take another breath. You know that feeling when you’re holding down your breath underwater up onto your lungs couldn’t take it much longer? That was it.
I couldn’t take it much longer. I feel stupid. I feel like I’m such a waste. I feel like everything I have done in life is completely a mistake. Then I felt that urge of walking down the eery beach, so I could just dissappear. I wanted to go underneath the water up until the dark seas could swallow me up.
I couldn’t even recall how far long ago I could consider myself happy. Genuinely happy. I have limited myself from doing the things I used to love. I have bombarded myself with tasks, responsibilities and what-nots. I am exhausted. I am in a crisis.
At 24, yes, I have accomplished a lot of things. I made myself capable of supporting my needs and wants. I have attained privileges some people dream of, but then I found myself in a situation where I couldn’t find any reason to go further. Then I told myself, “Fuck, what’s going on? Why am I letting this happen? I know better. I should know better.”
As tears ran down my cheeks, I heard a knock on my window. It was a police officer asking me if I was okay. Of course, I was not. Well, I didn’t say that, and he obviously knew I was lying. He politely asked me to leave the area because it was almost midnight, and it was not safe for me to be there by myself. He told me that everything is going to be alright. I agreed, thanked him and apologized.
As I was driving along the coast, it started to pour. Tears and raindrops dripped simultaneously. As if God was telling me, “Hey, you. Stop being an idiot. I’m pouring this down on you so you wouldn’t make yourself any stupider. Go home, kid.”
I had no destination in mind. I drove and drove up until I feel weary. I made a pitstop at a liquor store, and bought myself a good bottle of vodka. Then I decided to go home.
Now, it’s almost 5am, and I’m laying down in my bed, wide awake, nothing but alcohol and caffeine in my system. I’m now picturing my disgusting situation few hours ago. If that police officer didn’t bother to ask me how I was doing, I could have put myself in danger. He saved my day. My life. Yes. He bothered to ask. Now, I’m safe and sound.
If you find yourself in a situation, asking of your life’s worth, think of that stranger who bothered to ask me if I was okay without any judgment or whatsoever even if I lied to him upfront and told him I was fine. His small gesture was worth another day in my life to conquer.