A Place for Lonely People

Chapter 1: A Place

A wise phrase, once I heard, was everything happening in the world has a reason. Somehow I believe that. Like raining is a gift from a hot summer day, the air keeping the water inside the cloud, until one day, when the cloud couldn't handle the water anymore. The rain is falling, greeting their old friend ground. Creates a wonderful reflection, ground probably always wants, as it makes the ground look beautiful.

I enjoy the rain myself, sometimes I just get wet because I left the umbrella on a little shelf that was full with things I liked to call not daily basis useful but important someday. On this kind of day, I will look for a shelter just to patiently wait until the rain stops. A few moments to relax and enjoy the rain or sometimes a thunderstorm.

Since everything has a reason. One rainy night after work, I found this place. Even though I have been living in the apartment for almost three years, I never notice this spot. The place is in the corner of a park that is surrounded by five towers of the apartment. In the middle of the park, there is a pond that will be full of water during the rainy season.

My apartment window view is facing the busy main street. Even in the middle of the night when the street is supposed to be empty because the city is supposed to be sleeping, I often heard the sound of police sirens, a fast motorcycle who took the advantage of the silent road, or a giggle and screaming of people in the street. Of course, I know there is a park in the centre of the apartment. Near the park, there is a coffee shop I always visit on every weekend.

On Saturday morning, the park is full of kids playing with their friends, a runner who probably has to go around for more than ten laps to fill their running time, elders gathering to do an aerobic together, and there is a people like me who are too lazy making breakfast but wishing to get energized by the caffeine.

However, that one rainy night I was walking through a different route from the train station to the apartment. That night, I and two colleagues are having a movie night. Going out with them after office hours is only an act of me to get closer with the person I work within the office. If the relationship is gained, the communication when I work with them in the project is smoother than if I were anti-social colleagues.

I usually use entrance B which is closer to my apartment tower. But that night I was using entrance E, then I had to walk through the park to get to my tower. Strangely, the rain is still pouring like giving a reason for me to notice an empty corner in the park. The place is a gazebo that could fit for only six people sitting on a longways L shaped bench. It has a wooden floor and roof, with the park as the view. The place is barely noticeable because surrounded by a creeper in the foundation, also bushes, only a little footpath are clear as an entrance to the place.

As I am sitting there waiting for the rain tired pouring the ground. I light up my cigarette, the warmth in my fingers accompanies me in the windy rainy night. I became a smoker on my thirty-three birthday back in August. I have been trying to smoke when I was in middle school, but at that moment I couldn't figure out why my father liked smoking. Burn the tobacco, inhale the cigarette, hold the smoke for a while inside the throat, then exhale asks the air to accept the pollution caused by one smoker. Why does this motion make my father addicted so much? Not to mention I also become a passive smoker thanks to him.

The reason why I started smoking is probably caused by the stress of living in the middle of the busy city. The smoke that comes out of my mouth and nose while I exhale somehow creates a lighter sensation as if I bring the huge bourdon behind my back every day, seven days a week, twenty-four hours. Or maybe what I'm actually seeking is a company to spend a few minutes doing nothing, such as watching the rain in an empty park, to enjoy the scenery.

From that specific night, I knew the next day I would visit the place again. Like I can feel the connection will grow every time an excuse comes up in my mind only to sit there smoking because I am not ready yet to go up to my apartment. For the whole time standing in the corner without anyone visiting. Nothing more lonely than surrounded by people making interaction with each other, yet no one noticing your presence. I believe my being makes the place more lively. As a return, I could enjoy watching the park in many sceneries.