• That day, she broke up with me.
    I didn’t want to go home that day. Nevertheless, I hailed a cab. In just a matter of seconds, a taxi stopped and I grabbed open the door, “Where do ya want to go?” the man asked, his eyes whimsical.
    I opened my mouth and tried speak. I found that it was dry, but managed to say, “T-to my condo,” then I gave the address.
    He nodded and turned on the radio, “I thought it’d be nice for you to listen to something. Those black eyes of yours seem sad.” and he chuckled.
    Thinking back, I bet the taxi driver didn’t take the shortcuts for a reason: he wanted me to think.
    On the radio was a talk show. The host and the guests laughed so easily, talked to easily. Their minds were at rest and they were happy.
    When’s the next song? I groaned silently, leaning my head back into the seat, the conversations are just getting longer....Usually, right now, I would’ve asked to change the station... I thought to what song I would anticipate on listening to. Then, every song I knew became something I didn’t want anymore. Like thinking you’re hungry, then when the food arrives, you find that you’re already full. You’re sick of the food; you don’t want it anymore, there isn’t anything to listen to. Not anything I want to listen to I reminded myself.
    I muted my thoughts, and the laughter of the radio blurred away. Staring out the window, I watched as the brightly-lit city lights and eye-catching advertisements slowly turn to bokeh in my eyes, head leaning on the window pane. The more laughter the radio emanates, the less I paid attention. Even the thoughtful taxi driver started to laugh along with the jokes being cracked.
    Finally, the conversations cease and a song is requested by a listener via phoneline. A song that must be trending nowadays. Instead of one that is upbeat, it was sad. A song that I use to like at one point. I wonder if that artist felt alone, too, when he wrote the song, I pondered.
    What I needed at that time was an airbag. I needed it before I hit a great sadness that was creeping on me slowly. Now, I think...that the creeping sadness was something too late to avoid.
    “Hey. We’re here at your condo.” the driver looked at me, straight in the eye, from the rear-view mirror.
    “Yeah....” I grabbed the wallet from my jean pockets and handed him the money, pushing my drooping glasses up my nose again.
    Taking the money, he told me “Kid, get better okay? It makes me sad to see you like that.” All I had done, was say the same thing again.
    I shuffled my old brown shoes on the pavement, occasionally lifting them up to properly walk. I climbed the stairs up to the third floor, where my condo had laid. “So many things to take care of.” I whispered between parched lips.
    I untied my shoe laces and walked towards the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of red wine and a wine glass along the way. Sitting down, I opened the bottle with a waiter’s corkscrew and poured a glass.

    After a few, I said to myself quietly, “I can’t even properly get drunk.” it’s not like me to avoid drinking sessions like this. I always drink with friends or one other person...maybe it’s because I don’t like to be alone. Or maybe, it’s obvious I want to be alone? Even before she broke up with me, loneliness was a common thing still I thought. The deep scarlet filled glass sat on the coffee table, myself on the small loveseat. I could remember that my elbows rested on my knees, hands clasped together. So many things were going on and it never stopped. Could I have been able to share myself if someone else was by my side?

    The condos were right next to each other, naturally, and the walls weren’t sound proof. A loud thud and then came an even louder round of swearing. “Guess your plans were cancelled to go out drinking tonight,” bittersweetly, I smiled, “Am I right?”

    My eyes lingered itself to the instant photos taped on my wall. My parents. Sister. Dogs. My neighbor before he drank. Girlfriend...ex-girlfriend, I mean.

    Parents were gone. Sister was far away. The dogs were sold, and now, the neighbor became boorish. The girlfriend left and moved away.

    “I wonder if for this mindless wandering is because I have no home, or there is nowhere to go. But...there’s lots of places to go, is it because there’s no one to wait for me?” surprisingly, I tolerated alcohol easily that night. “Guess I’m all alone again.” once again, my bittersweet smile surfaced, “I’m going crazy.” I breathed.

    Standing up, I began to walk towards the window. The city lights, the police car sirens, the elevator dings. When had everything started to fall apart? My eyes started to sting; I could feel tears wanting to come out and I blinked them away sucessfully. I didn’t want to admit that I was sad, that I could’ve broke down into a mental breakdown of some sort, “It’s my hair, it’s too long in the front.” my excuse. I said it while brushing my light brown hair out from my face.

    Looking back at the glass window, I noticed droplets. It must’ve been raining for awhile when I hadn't noticed. Tops of umbrellas could be seen from the third story window and puddles began to form. Reflected in those puddles were ads. Billboards to stop smoking, billboards selling TVs and smartphones, and a billboard about car accidents, neatly lit in neon colors.

    The first thing that popped into my head upon seeing that sign was you. You with your silky black hair, orange knit beanie, and frameless glasses. You’re probably doing well right now, right? You’re probably happy to be rid of me, right?

    Tears began to form and while I tried to blink them off, they just ran down my cheeks, how much did I love you, to be crying this much right now?

    On that night, I longed for you. The rain comes, and my heart begins to quiver in the rain. I need you, you’re my savior, you’re my airbag.

    That night, I remembered exactly how we met. During autumntime, you approached me wearing red heart earrings, an off-shoulder shirt, a jean skirt, and Mary Janes. I remembered how warmly you smiled at me. I swore at myself in present day, “How the ******** did I let myself let you go?” My everything.