He was just here

   Raymond felt he sand between his toes and just kept on walking, not even realizing he was walking towards the ocean. To him, it didn’t matter anymore. His life was stuck on a loop and he had lived what he needed to live. He felt there was nothing more he could do or that he could get out of life on Earth. He had decided to think things by taking a walk and, unknowingly, his subconscious had already decided that it was time to end it all. The water reached his pants fast, and then his underwear. Then his belt, his shirt and finally his glasses. The current and the sheer strength of the ocean did the rest, taking his body from that cold, windy beach to the bottom of the ocean, from where no one would be able to take it for some time.

 He wasn’t someone people would miss and, although the ocean released the body, the police didn’t identify him for several months, as no one would ask for him. When they finally did identify the body as Raymond Bloom, it happened just because of a casual matter and not because someone was looking for him. The truth was he had no wife, no children, no parents and no friends. According to the information an officer was able to gather, he had lived alone for at least twenty years in a small attic on a very old building. The place smelled awful, as no one even knew the owner was dead. The officer found there some leads on who the man was and, maybe, on why he had done what he had done.

 Officer Jenny Marshall was one of those people who believe the best of every single person. It was strange for a cop to have such an attitude towards life but there she was, trying to cheer people up and making the best of her day every single day. She had been transferred recently and it was only the second post she had held ever so she wasn’t really assigned to the streets or to some interesting investigations. Jenny normally did the paperwork for every case and was in charge of keeping the archives in order, something she took very seriously. Deep down, she knew that her male counterparts loved to see her tie down to a job that didn’t lead anywhere but she ignored that fact and just did her work.

 Investigating the death of Raymond was assigned to her because she requested it. She told her boss she wanted to change her work a little and such a case would be perfect for her. After all, it seemed pretty straightforward and she could even do all the paperwork herself. So she convinced her boss and there she was on Raymond’s apartment, pinching her nose to avoid the foul smell of rotten food and trying to uncover the reason why he had committed suicide. To Penny, personally, it was not clear how a person could do such a thing. For her, life was sacred and no one had the right to take their own, even if they felt helpless and desperate. She knew there were always better options.

 She went through Raymond’s things and discovered that he had been published. The books did not look very nice on the outside but then she decided to sit down on the bed and just read one of the many stories the man had written in them. One was particularly moving; dealing with a ghost that saw how his childhood home was tore down to build an apartment building. She found very interesting but very sad too. She kept on looking for clues on Raymond’s house but she realize the only thing worth looking in there was his books so she put them all in boxes and took them to the station. She would try to find something in them and get to the bottom of the case, that way making everyone realize she could be a great agent and even a decent detective.

 Jenny started ready every single one of Raymond’s stories at work. No one really said anything to her because she wasn’t annoying anyone and she was doing her main job, which was taking care of the all the data. As she did that and on her free time, she would only read and read everything. Months passed until she had read every single piece of writing in Raymond’s apartment.  It was winter now and the last words she read from him where strangely appropriate for the climate: “I feel the cool breeze coming and telling me it’s time to go”. That was a short story about a man radically different from Raymond, with family and love all around him.

 The officer decided to let the case go for a while, so she went home and spent the holidays with her parents and her boyfriend and every other family member that had decided to come to the city for Christmas. She had a wonderful time eating and talking and dancing. She laughed a lot and wished for life only to be like that, full of joy and people whom you loved and who loved you. She realized Raymond’s writing had begun to depress her a bit but her family and all the love and special mood of the season brought back to her the best feelings and that nice warmth that only love can take to someone’s heart. And then, right in the Christmas dinner, she understood what had happened to Raymond.

 He had killed himself, not because he was weak or suffering in a too awful way. He died because he was alone; he had no one to take care of him or to even listen to what he had to say. And that was obvious just by reading what he wrote, as he said everything about anything he had ever thought about in life. It was amazing to read about so many things, but funny and serious, happy and sad, short and extremely long. His writing had been the way for him to externalize every single thing he had bottled up inside, as he ad never had anyone to properly talk and share his thoughts with. He had been trapped by his own life or, at least that’s what Jenny thought. Even if he was to blame, he had no choice.

 When the holidays ended, she wrote her report on the death of Raymond Bloom and decided to properly request her transference to the detective’s unit. She knew she could do more there and when her demand wasn’t accepted, she resigned the police. Jenny had learned from investigating Raymond that she needed to do with her life as she wanted, she couldn’t afford not living and not doing what her heart demanded of her. She didn’t want to end up like Raymond, all alone and talking to the books because there’s no one there. Unappreciated by the world and ignored to the point when, at her death, no one would ever think of grieving her. She wanted more from life and, eventually, she got it.

 Raymond’s books were donated to a public library and it was almost two years later when Jenny saw Ray’s name on the news. She was working with the FBI and now had a partner and was properly working the field. But during the investigation of a case, she saw the headline and bought the newspaper to find out what it was all about. Apparently, a book expert had been investigating the libraries of the cities looking for antiquities and particular books and so on. He had discovered Raymond, who had been an unknown author all his life, and declared he was one of the best storywriter he had ever found. He didn’t know that Ray was dead but he did know something else that Jenny didn’t: Ray hadn’t been as alone as she had thought.

 According to the article, the man had found several letters in the apartment Raymond had lived in, now turned into a posh flat. During the reforms on the place, they had found several letters and the expert had read them, discovering he had owned a dog for a long time and that he had died just about the time the author had stopped writing. Besides the dog, he had been in love with someone he described thoroughly in his letters, every physical aspect and some traits of characters. The letters, with such richness and passion, ended up being edited into a book that sold millions of copies, making the expert a rich man.

 Jenny was sad that Raymond had not been there to enjoy his fame and fortune. They eventually discovered he had committed suicide and that made his letters and all his books even more popular. Eventually, there was no one that didn’t know the name of the author and his tragic story. Jenny had thought, for a moment, that she had known the author but she realized she never did. She realized that no one had ever known him properly. He had been in love, that man who felt so alone and so sad. He had experienced life and life had not experienced him and Jenny felt that he finally understood why he had done what he had done. It was clear as water and she wouldn’t argue with it.

 Raymond became famous, as well as his views on life and his pain, which was painted all over his letters. But no one would ever know him as he was already gone and everyone had lost the chance to tell him “I’m here”.

What the past is telling me

   I woke up sweating, trembling a bit even. I had just had one of those dreams about the past, but one that was distorted and made me feel even more lost that what I was back in school. I turned around and realized, relieved, that Paul was there. For a moment, I had thought I was all alone and had to calm myself down by myself, which was difficult because I would always go back to what had made me feel so uneasy instead of calming myself down. But with him there, his warmth and even his smell, the task would be much easier. I just moved closer to him and he moved, putting his arm around me without waking up. With only that, I was able to fall asleep again and, this time, I didn’t have any horrible dreams. It was all blank, just like I preferred it.

 Some hours later, we were having something for breakfast and he asked me about my dream. He said he had heard me wake up but that he had been so tired he had fallen asleep again very fast. I told him nothing and I don’t really understand why. Not only were we closer than ever now, he was one of those people that make you feel good just by being there. But somehow, I decided not to say anything, only that I did not remember anything about the dream, which was I lie. I don’t think he bought that but that didn’t matter. I knew he wasn’t going to start asking more and more questions. That wasn’t he’s style. We just kept eating and said nothing more about my dream or anything related to that.

 Instead, he told me that he really wanted me to go to his next performance in a bar not very far away from my place. Paul was a musician and played the bass in a band. It wasn’t a rock band but I don’t know that much about music so every time someone asks me about what he did, I would say he’s a rocker or that he plays the bass, which makes me sound horribly ignorant. But weirdly enough, he has always liked me to say things like that. I think that’s why we got along so well since the first time we talk to each other. He perceived me as crazy and I felt the same vibe from him. The night we met we kissed and had sex, which made me think I would never see him again. I was so wrong.

 Karma has a way of doing things, or maybe it’s meant to be or whatever… Anyway, the thing was that I saw him everywhere. Every time I went for a beer with my friends, he would be playing with his band there or in the next pub or something. We would run into each other and it was very uncomfortable until he told me that he had being wanting to get my number but couldn’t find me online. I laughed at that remark, possibly because I thought that was something very nice to do and I just gave him my number and from then on we have being close to on e another, without labeling our current situation. He’s not my boyfriend or anything like that. We just spend time together.

 Anyway, I kept the dream to myself. At work, it kept haunting me. Different to other dreams, I remembered everything about this one. The faces, what people said, everything that happened. It was difficult to get away from it and I decided to confront it and just tell someone.  So I went to my best friend and told her everything. But her reaction was not what I was expecting. She told me to explain to her what made me uneasy from the dream because she didn’t understand what it was. I explained to her that the dream dealt with many of my high school classmates and the fact that I had pissed my pants out of fear once when I was like nine or ten. She ten became very serious and told me that probably it was something I had never faced and now it had decided to come back.

 But I didn’t want that to come back. I had worked for many years and with no rest, in order to make myself into someone less sensitive to mockery and laughter and such. Back then, people were very cruel and had treated me in a wrong way and my solution had been to become someone tough, lonely and very sarcastic. It worked beautifully because, although people still talked about me behind my back, I decided I didn’t care and they just wouldn’t say a word. When I graduated, I thought that would be a big shell to pull off my back, but it wasn’t. I realized I needed again, because I had begun dating and I had entered the gay world, which is more complex and awful than people realized.

 I just didn’t want to dream about it again. Yes, I had decided not to confront it and maybe that was why things happened but why confront that and how? Yes, I had being laughed at but who cares? Who hasn’t? I refuse to say I was bullied because that feels wrong, it feels wrong to say it because there was never something as harsh as that… I don’t know. That following night, Paul didn’t come to my house because he had worked to do in his. I realized I had to spend my night alone and that made me think for hours and hours before I went to sleep. With Paul, he had sex and then we fell asleep but without him it was difficult.

 The following day, something happened that made me feel that something didn’t want me to forget about those damn times in school. I was in the grocery store, more like a supermarket, checking for jams and just turned my head and so one of the jocks from high school. Of course, he wasn’t a jock anymore, he looked a bit bigger, much more stupid that ever before, but it was him and I could hear his laughter like in the dream. That distraction was worth a jar of strawberry jam that I mistakenly put in the air instead of the shelf. I was so ashamed with the lady that had to come cleaning and with every single member of the staff of that supermarket. I just paid for the smashed jam and left almost running.

 I got home fast and just stayed there for the rest of the day. I asked for some Chinese food and tried to distract myself with a movie but I had already seen it and I just felt like crying, which I ultimately did. I was sobbing like mad all alone on my sofa and the only thing I could think off was about calling Paul, so I did. I sounded pretty congested when I talked to him and he noticed it right away. I asked him if he could come home for a bit but he told me he was still finishing his work and had so much more to do. He asked me to tell him what was going on over the phone but I just hung up on him because I was disappointed. I had wanted to pull my heart out for him and apparently work was much more important so I called my best friend instead.

 When she arrived, I paid for her taxi because it was late and she did not live close by. As soon as we entered my apartment, I began crying again and just told her everything, how bad it felt that I had to hide my feeling just because some stupid fucking kids had been mean to me for doing something that was normal and for being afraid. They didn’t understand that I felt intimidated by them because they were all friends and I was the new kid that no one wanted to talk to because it felt as if had brought the plague to the school. I didn’t wanted to be popular or anything, I just wanted to fit in and they just gave me the fucking finger.

 And it had been like that for years and year afterwards. People always thinking I had nothing to say or nothing to share and they just put me aside. In college, it was so much better but then it was guys, because I had to like them and felt like shit because the gay fucking world is shallow and they only care if you looked good and I just had a low self-esteem and that didn’t help at all. No boyfriends in several years and the only guy I had met that met something had just refused to come to my home and spent some time with me, when I had been the one to go to his fucking concerts and support him every single time. I was disappointed, hurt and confused by it all.

 My friend took my hand and told me that what I was doing was necessary, to vent all my frustration out and realize what was really bothering. And that was that I felt I needed more than what I have been given. She thought that I had tried so hard to be away from people not to get hurt, that now my need for a human touch was greater that it could have been before and the person that I felt something for was just not there. We were nothing. Not that I needed a boyfriend but I needed commitment more than a name. And, apparently, Paul wasn’t the one to give me that. Besides, we were not “exclusive” and I knew there was at least another guy around. And now that I cared for him so much, it bothered me.

 She stayed the night and we watched movies and ate ice cream. Luckily it was a Thursday, so I could get to work late and my friend had her day off. We talk about her life too, her boyfriend and her crazy mother and I realized that she was one of the things I had always wanted from life: a true friend. I just needed to be a better one myself and realize what was else I needed and wanted for myself, because no one else would do it for me.

Know thyself

-       So she broke up with you because you lost your job?

Erick nodded, still drying his tears from before. His best friend Juliette paced in front of him, in his room. He had finally come out of his bedroom covers and Juliette had forced him to open the curtains. Now, all that was left was to talk.

-       I don’t get it…

-       She…

-       Not that. Why did they fire you?

Erick gulped down some orange juice Juliette had brought him and looked to a point by the window, probably remembering the moment he had been fired.

-       They said I was too focused on my personal life.

Juliette smiled.

-       So you lost your job because of her and left you because you lost the job she made you loose?

 Again he nodded and he started crying again. This time, however, Juliette did not try to stop him from doing it. Why would she? He had been the one guilty of his firing and that was the real tragedy in all of this. Nothing else mattered, not even that silly brunette.

-       I love her.

-       No, you don’t.

-       I do!

-       You’re obsessed with her. And frankly, I don’t see why.

-       She’s smart and beautiful.

-       No, she’s not. She’s a fucking bitch.

 Erick stopped crying and lamenting himself. He stared at her friend, confused.

-       What? You really didn’t know she’s a pain in the ass? Always complaining, always thinking she’s better than everyone else because she has had money to travel the goddamn world?

-       I…

-       You didn’t know… My God!

Juliette had finally had it so she stepped out of Erick’s bedroom and went for the kitchen. It was very early but she knew he kept some alcohol in the house for parties. Right enough, she found a can of beer and drank half of it on one go. Erick came out of his bedroom and sat down in his sofa, just in front of the kitchen.

-       I didn’t know you hated her so much.

-       I don’t hate her. I don’t know her that well.

-       But you…

-       I just don’t like her attitude. She comes off as arrogant and preachy; always thinking her way is the one to go. And she’s not that smart.

-       Why do you say that?

 Erick’s friend had another big sip of beer and looked at the can instead of him when speaking.

-       She thought your birthday was in February.

-       It’s in August.

-       I know. She also said that day in the gallery she did not know what all the fuss was with all that “homosexual art”. She said it was wrong to give them too many liberties.

-       But that was Alex’s expo.

-       I know.

-       And she’s gay.

-       I know!

-       Why would she say that?

-       Not smart. Told you.

For a while, they did not say another word. Juliette was busy trying to know what to say next, hopefully helping her friend and putting him in the right path towards a fast recuperation from all of this and for him to begin to worry about the job, which was the biggest lost he had suffer. However, Erick was still thinking about his former girlfriend, remembering every single time they had been together. It had been a nice ten months, in which he had lots of fun. They had laughed together and enjoyed nice moments but now he realized he had been in the presence of several comments and things she did or say that hadn’t shocked him back then but now they made more sense.

-       What are you thinking?

-       She didn’t like dogs.

-       Oh…

-       And she didn’t like any of you.

Again, Juliette smiled.

-       I knew that.

-      She always told me, in very well thought words that all of you weren’t really funny or nice to be with. But I didn’t realize what she was really saying until now.

-       It’s ok. You’re not the first person to hook up with a crazy woman.

-       But it is my first time.

 Juliette did not know what to respond to that. She finished her beer, threw the can away and sat down by Erick. She had been friends with him for over ten years now and she had seen him in every single state one can imagine a person to be. She had seen him immensely happy and also very sad. Excited, crying, yelling out of rage, insane… They were friends and she just wanted him to be all right.

-       You’re worried about the job, right?

-       I think it’s the most important thing right now.

-       Maybe… But to tell you the truth I was getting tired to be there.

-       You made great money.

-       But it was the job my dad had found for me thanks to his buds in the business. I want to make something of my own.

-       That’s great but how? Work by demand?

-      Maybe. I don’t know… I was beginning to do things there like a robot, just like the same thing over and over again and I…

-       Are you sure?

Erick looked straight and his friend’s eyes.

-       Of course. I know that you think that because of what happened I’m trying to find an excuse for it but I really didn’t feel right working there anymore.

-       That doesn’t matter anymore. Now it’s all-new again and you can decide what to do and what not do, in every sense possible. If you want to look for a different job, I guess it’s only a matter of finding it. It’s hard but you’ll get there.

-       And about…?

-    That can wait. You don’t have to be with someone to feel you’re worth anything. Actually, it’s when you’re single that you realize how much you can do and what are your strengths, your weaknesses.

-       You really think so?

-       You have to know yourself before getting it on with someone else. I think.

They smiled at each other and then they did something they did not do very often: they hugged. They then talked a bit about Juliette’s life but she didn’t want to take all the attention to herself. She told Erick she had to go to her mother’s, so that could be his first time alone and thinking about his future. Or better, not to think about anything and just enjoy himself in his place.

 Juliette left and Erick decided to try and have a nice day. He downloaded a couple of movies he had always loved, he decided to have a shower first and in the shower, he realized he wanted Chinese food for lunch so he ordered that when he was still holding his towel by the waist. In the bathroom again, after brushing his teeth, he took off the towel and took a look at himself. His eyes were read and his skin was pale, lifeless. He needed to get some sun too but maybe he could leave that for the next day.

 His delivery arrived fast and he received it in his boxers. Just like that, he sat down on his bed, by the laptop, and watched the first movie, an animated one. At one point he cried, but because of the movie and not what he had gone through. Actually, the next time he thought about his ex was the following morning when she called him on his cellphone. But he didn’t answer the call and decided to go have breakfast with Juliette.

 Eventually, he would find a job and maybe a new girlfriend. But Erick had learned that he had no idea who he really was, not entirely at least. And he wanted to know desperately before anyone else. If he didn’t, life just couldn’t be lived properly and what’s the fun in that?