Ross Lynch Imagines

Living Lonely

   Being alone and being lonely are two completely different things, which your mother fails to realize. One is a physical state and the other one is a feeling. You live alone, in a two-bedroom apartment located on the third floor of an apartment building in the outer-skirts of a small town in Connecticut. Your apartment is quite simple, but perfect and cozy just for yourself. It has a nice view of a lake that is now coated with a thin layer of ice due to the December weather conditions and it's a drafty, city-like apartment style with an industrial high ceiling with wooden beams, pipes, and vents. Every wall is made of brick, the floors are concrete and the kitchenette has wooden counters with a copper sink. At the first glimpse it seemed so unique and had lots of character, so you had to buy it. And now, you pay rent every month ever since you bought it last year.

Although, that is beside the point. Your mother is convinced you are lonely because you have been living alone an hour and a half away from your hometown for a year now. You're single, you barely have any friends, you rarely see family, and you spend most of your days working as a barista at a local coffeeshop called Coffee Cup. Simple and disappointing, but this is the life you chose... You swear you are fine and living the life, you say. Although, this is just a mask you wear whenever you see any of your family.

You truly are fine, however. You are not lonely, but you aren't living the life you always dreamed you would at twenty two. Flashing back to when you were a senior in high school, you had big hopes and dreams of attending some state university and pursuing your dream of becoming a lawyer. By now you should be graduating college and interning at law offices, although you hadn't even gone to college yet. In high school you applied around, but perhaps your résumé wasn't impressive enough because every college declined your applications.

And now here you are with only a high school diploma, an apartment you live in alone, working as a full-time barista at some cheesy coffeeshop, single, constantly having a self-pity party for yourself, single, and regretting your life decisions every damn day... Oh, did you mention single? By now you at least wanted to be on the tracks of becoming a lawyer with a college degree and living in a cute apartment with your loving boyfriend. You also wanted to adopt a puppy or a kitten, but you never got around to that either. It seems as if they only thing you accomplished from your wishes is the cute apartment. Oh, but at least the tips is good as a barista living a(lonely).

You reel your old, beaten up 1964 Pony car into a vacant parking space in front of Coffee Cup, cursing under your breath because you are five minutes late for your shift. You hastily get out of your car after turning off your engine, being cautious that you don't slip on any patches of ice on the pavement. The air is frigid and what makes it unbearable is the December wind gushing against your exposed skin, causing goosebumps to form. Last night had been Connecticut's first harsh winter storm this year, with over eight inches of snow coating the ground. It was a bit of a trouble driving here because a few roads near where you live have not been plowed yet and the skies are dark and grey.

Nonetheless you hurry inside, sighing heavily as a gush of warm air wafts over you. As you scurry behind the counter to clock in and begin your shift, you observe the shop and it is a bit crowded already. It is filled with mostly teenagers amongst a few businessmen fetching a coffee before heading off to work. You assume school had been closed due to the amount of teenagers seated at the circular tables.

"You're late," Gregg, a fellow colleague, if you will, greets you with stern, yet amused eyes.

"I know," you say as you hang up your coat on the coatrack in the employee lounge in the back. "Sorry."

"Boss is going to kill you," Gregg tells you as you quickly tie your apron around your waist and pin your name tag on.

"Ugh, great," you scoff in dismay.