After work loneliness

The walk to work from the ferry to my office is roughly 20 minutes. If it is not raining heavily I love the morning walk, the day is new and full of promise. Maybe I will see a person down and out on their luck and offer them a buck or two. Maybe I will see the progress made by the man with the many suitcases fresh out from the shelter as he moves them from lamppost to lamppost up Spring Garden Road. Or say hi to that same person I see at the same time each morning on the street. I will walk my usual route and take in the sites, snapping some photographs, my thoughts fresh and positive and a bounce in my step. In the morning my memories of Terry are soft and peaceful triggered constantly by a song on my ipod, a crow cawing, a glance at a truck from a place he worked, a store or restaurant we visited - all relating back to us or him. Sometimes I am shocked by how much of him is there around me even when I am not looking.

The walk home is different. Maybe it is because I am tired or worn out from work and socializing. The day heading into night closes in around me. I notice the streets are busier, people move faster, no one looks at you and smiles, heads are down. I notice people are in pairs more in the latter part of the day and sometimes (despite my unconscious desire to the contrary) I even notice the dreaded fucking couples hand holding. Have they met up after work? Are they heading to their houses and apartments to share their evening together or grabbing a bite and a movie after their day apart? As I move closer to the ferry I feel my steps getting heavier. These coupled strangers in my work commute move quicker as I slow.  Phones are out, connections are made, their body movements revealing that anticipation of going home to loved ones. They rush to waiting cars with their partners behind the wheel ready for a kiss. It's the hardest time, this 20 minutes of smack in my face loneliness. It is hard to ignore. I desperately plan what I can possibly do to avoid this. I have whittled down all the grief landmines that threatened to shred me to pieces (Sunday family suppers, Saturday mornings, Friday nights, bedtime) into workable slots of getbyisms. But I can't yet rid myself of this 20 minutes of after work loneliness.