I am a spectator of life. I have never truly existed, as I am like the background character in a side story. I do not hate this; I chose to live like this, and I choose to live like this.
I woke up like any other morning. The time was 6:20, 20 minutes after my alarm; 10 minutes before I usually wake up. I used those 10 minutes to eat one extra piece of bland bread; not because I’m poor, but because I love the way it tastes. I went to my room, put the necessary books in my bag, slipped my phone into my pocket, and left for another day, hoping it would be like any other.
I arrived early at the school and used that time to watch my classmates. Some were doing their makeup; others were trying to stuff the last bite of their breakfast into their mouths. It was like a movie; a movie I had watched a thousand times before yet did not get bored of. A movie so realistic, you’d think it’s from the eyes of man, though it kind of is.
I do not have any friends, and neither do I have any foes. I choose to live this way because of my love for the natural lives of people. I truly enjoy watching humans act like themselves, and making friends would make me feel like I’m breaking that natural order. Some may think that my way of thinking is a phase, or the result of some kind of trauma, yet it is neither. My personality is the result of nothing, I am like this simply because, and I am happy this way.
School ended and I went to my locker to collect the books my homeworks are from. I do not struggle academically, and I only talk in class so that my teachers don’t worry about me, as that would just be annoying. I opened my locker and saw a piece of paper hit the ground. I picked it up thinking it was some old project, and I would’ve prayed to a hundred gods last night for that to be the case if I had known what it would be. What fell from my locker was not some old paper, but a piece of paper with a small red heart on it. In other words, a very cliche love letter written like an American high school romantic comedy would do so. My face made the most disgusting look, using muscles I didn’t even know I had. Yet I still decided to read the cursed paper, because I was not a bad person, nor did I hate anyone I knew.
“Hello Felhő; I am your classmate, Abraham. I know that this letter is very stupid-looking and kind of cliche, but I could not think of any other way to talk to you. Can you please meet me behind the gymnasium this afternoon at 4:30 pm? I would like to talk to you.”
After reading the letter, about half of my disgust for the letter changed direction and pointed at myself. I felt bad for mocking such a wholesome little letter. My hate for it did not change in any way though. I sat down on a nearby bench and contemplated the choices I could make. It was as if my very life had become a digital dating simulator, and I had to choose between my time or the feelings of a stranger. After about 40 seconds of thinking, I decided to meet this classmate of mine, so as to respectfully decline them and not break their heart.
My classmate was waiting for me, and she was looking a little shy, increasing the cliche level in this whole event. I do not know why a girl was named Abraham, but I did think it was funny in a rather wholesome way. I walked up to her, and allowed her to start the conversation:
“Hello Felhő, I assume you read my letter.”
“Yes, it wasn’t exactly my thing, but I did think it was very cute.”
“I’m sure you already know what I want to say, but can I still say it out loud?”
“I’ll wait for you to do so, so don’t stress it.”
The girl stopped, took a deep breath, fixed her hair and clothes and said to me:
“Felhő, I am in love with you, will you please go out with me?”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not interested in romance or dating but thank you for thinking so highly of me.” I tried making my voice as soft as possible, but I was not very good at it. The girl stopped for a moment, took another deep breath and then said to me:
“Oh, I understand. But thank you for listening to me, I feel much better now.”
“No problem, you can talk to me anytime you feel like it.”
And with that, the girl left, and I went back into my life of a spectator. The rest of my day went by as usual, yet I still felt a little happier than normal. A girl, and a rather cute one at that, taking interest in me had made me strangely happy. I felt no feelings towards the girl, and I did not regret rejecting her. But for once in my life, being the actor instead of the spectator made me very happy.
I watched people on my way home. Some were couples, others were friends or maybe of the same bloodline. It made me think about humans or relationships. Maybe a spectator affecting the flow of the movie wasn’t such a sin after all. I looked up at the white clouds above. They were slowly walking over my head, under the infinite sky. If I were a cloud, I could watch anyone, anytime I wanted. Nothing I did would change the natural order of the story, and I could watch it all, start to finish with no ads, and for free.
But I am not a cloud. I am a human being, one that can change that story. So maybe my story shouldn’t be the story of others, but the story of me watching them. It should be my story, but not one where the main character changes the world, nor one where he saves it. It should be one where the main character watches others do so, yet still exists himself. I should not let my love for people overshadow my own existence. And with that conclusion, I continued my way home, with my morale being much higher than usual.