When The Lights Go Out

3. Lunch is lonely?

"Preparing for death is one of the most empowering things you can do. Thinking about death clarifies your life."

- Candy Chang

Lunch is a dreary affair. While I enjoy being alone, I hate the hubbub of noise that is there. I sit alone.

Anyone could have guessed that, I suppose.

It is not that I love being alone, it is a matter of habit. I don't think that even the most self assured people like being alone. After sometime, the loneliness starts to seep in.

JK Rowling once said that "To the organised mind, death is but the next adventure." She's wrong. Probably not the first time that I would think she was wrong about something.

I am not organised, but I know death is the next adventure for me.

I hate anything organised. I love my messes. I always know exactly where everything is in my messes.

I thrive in chaos. I guess that's why I am so calm about my death. I don't think an organised mind would be able to comprehend their own death. It would mess with their plans, it would turn them their minds into an entanglement of thoughts.

Death is for the chaotic. For those with no signs of plans of life. If you plan your life out, you are never ready to die, because there is always something in your book, that you haven't achieved, that you haven't --

"Can I sit here?" and with a simple question, my life turned around. I looked up from my food to the person standing in front of me.

They had long blue hair, dark skin, a nose pericing.

"Su..re." I wasn't sure how to exactly react, so I stared.

"You can stop staring man." the person sitting in front of me said.

Let me tell you something about Gender Dysphoria, it doesn't come up and bother you when you are ready for it. You cannot add it to your timetable and arrange for your mind to deal with it.

For me happens is situations, like when, somebody, any random stranger uses terms like girl or boy or man. They probably never mean anything by it, but my mind doesn't know that. Or it knows, but at that moment when anxiety is about to blow it up, it doesn't particularly care.

"I am not a man." I have no idea why I said that, but its like I told you, my brain, it has its own ideas. I am very rarely in on it. Which then begs the question aren't my brain and I the same person?

"What?" the person in front of me paused their eating and looked at me, in genuine confusion.

"I said I am not a man, not a woman either. My name is Festus Clover. I am non-binary." I stated it, like it was the weather.

Inside I was freaking out. What if the person sitting in front of me was a homophobe. Would they spit on me and leave? It has happened before, don't look so shocked.

Well, it would certainly mess my hopes of acquiring a potential friend wouldn't it. It was probably the only thing on the bucket list.

"Oh, I am Cecilia Rose. I am a she/her cis-girl." she didn't look at me weird, or stare at me. She replied like it was normal.

It should be normal but it isn't.

I wanted to know what her brain was thinking at that moment. It was as if she didn't mind. But everybody minded at first, didn't they?

"Why aren't you sitting with your friends?" nobody sat with me, it was like a rule in the handbook of this school. I didn't mind really. I mean I hate talking to people, but well I liked her. She seemed cool, like a breath of fresh air on the graveyard of my life.

"I am new, I joined between the terms. My parents shift a lot, so here I am." and just like that I knew more about her than I did about most of the population in the school.

"What are you writing?" I don't think anybody had ever asked me that.

"Ideas, future planning," I couldn't tell her I was writing down potential ideas on how to die. That wouldn't end very well.

"I have no plans for tomorrow, and here you are planning the future." she sighed, like I had achieved something most people never did.

But that's the thing about wanting to die, it's more common than people think. 

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