The street was empty as I made my way home. I pulled my coat tighter around myself to block out the frigid winter air. As I turned the corner to get onto my street I noticed I wasn't the only one still out this late.
Sat on one of the usually empty benches was a thin man with his head in his hands. I thought about continuing my trek home and leaving the man to his thoughts. However, thinking maybe there was something wrong and he needed a little help I called out, "You alright there?" My voice broke through the silence of the street. The man's head snapped up.
He looked around as if making sure I was talking to him. A small laugh escaped my lips as he looked about the empty street.
Looking at me he replied, dismissively, "Yeah, I'm quite alright."
I walked closer to the man. Looking into his dull eyes I could see all the pain that went unspoken of. "You don't look alright to me. You look sad, but leave it bottled up. You know they say that it helps to talk about it. Talking gets it off your shoulders."
I sat down on the bench. The man glanced at me for a moment before asking, "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to talk to strangers?"
"Yes," I laughed. "But when someone is sitting on a bench, on a deserted street, in the middle of the night in January, looking sad, you wonder what's wrong and think maybe- just maybe- they need a little help."
The man half-smiled. "I like your way of thinking."
"So are you going to tell me why you're sad?" I questioned.
He turned towards me, crossing his arms across his chest. He seemed lost in thought for a moment before replying, "I've lost so much. My family. My friends." His voice was barely a whisper and he sounded so broken.
"What happened to them?" I asked gently.
"My family…They died." His head dropped to look at his hands that now lay in his lap.
"I'm sorry."
"It wasn't your fault." He picked his head up to look at me and continued on. "My friends…Their fate was no better. They're gone. They're someplace else. I've got no one left."
"Couldn't you just visit them then?"
"I wish it was that easy." He then began to explain what had happened to the people he loved and lost. Throughout his story I could see that he was trying to hold back tears. Well, who wouldn't? As his story went on he said something about him being destined to loneliness. How he must have been one of the few that would spend his life as one of loneliness and always losing those who are close to him.
That's when I saw it. He had accepted his fate. One of the most terrible of fates that anyone could ever have to endure. It was a lifetime of loneliness.
When he finished his story I told him that everyone has to deal with loneliness at times, hoping that it might make his situation seem less terrible. I also said that there will come a day when there will be someone that ends the pain of being alone.
His face showed that he didn't quite believe it and I knew he had accepted his fate a long time ago and it may have been too late for him to believe otherwise. He thanked me for listening and made his way down the street from the way I came. I watched him for a moment; The lonely man who lost everything.
I stood up and continued making my way home. As I came to my door, knowing the man had accepted his fate long ago, that maybe I had helped in someone. Hopefully, I gave him a better outlook at life. Unfortunately, I can only hope.