Destiny of Solitude

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
It's about a man who never thought that he would find love, but he gets surprised...

Submitted: January 15, 2015

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Submitted: January 15, 2015



I walked back to my table, carrying the beer that I had just picked up from the bar. I sat down and took a long draught from the bottle. Everyone else from my table had left, heading for the dance floor, or going home to put the kids to bed. I watched my friends on the dance floor, giving particular attention to the groom, Jason. Jason was my closest friend, and the last one to settle down, not counting myself. As I was watching Jason out on the floor dancing with his new bride I allowed a small smile to myself. He was a good guy, always caring and kind. It gave me pleasure to see him happily lost in his own world with his wife.

Through our years of friendship, Jason had always despaired of being left alone. As one friend got married after the other, he became more and more terrified that he would end up by himself. I took the other approach. As a bachelor I was always partial to the “wait and see” approach. I never shared in the same fears that Jason did. However, as I sat alone at my table, seeing my last friend start a new life with someone else, his fears began to creep into my mind. What if I was never able to find someone special, someone who I would be willing to spend my life with? 

I took another sip.

I had never seen myself as a loner. Of course, I liked girls. I’d fallen in love before. But I never had a relationship that worked out, or more likely than not, I’d fallen for a girl who did not feel the same way. This never deterred me, never made me feel hopeless. But the years continued to pass by, and I never found “the one”. It was not until this moment, sitting alone at a table at my best friend’s wedding, that I realized I may end up alone. However, I shook off these feelings. It was no use worrying. Instead I focused on my friends on the dance floor, soaking in the festive atmosphere. A wedding is a magical thing, a place where happiness thrives and flows out of everyone. At a wedding, it is hard to be sad.

As I was contemplating the joyous scene in front of me, a man that I did not recognize approached my table, “Hello, it looks like you could use some company.” He had gray hair, streaked with black. At my best guess, I would have said that he was about 55, but the signs of age had just settled on his features. His most striking trait was his eyes. They were a deep brown, but it wasn’t their color. When he looked at you, you felt that he understood you, your hopes, and your fears. He looked past the physical and into the spiritual. He introduced himself.

I stood up, shook his hand, and introduced myself. Sitting down, I wondered what compelled the older man to approach my table. However, it quickly became apparent what he wanted.

“I can’t help but notice that you’re sitting here by yourself. This isn’t the first time is it?”

I hesitated. I didn’t know whether I wanted this stranger to know about my secret fears. But I relented: “No, this is not the first time. I don’t mind though. I enjoy seeing my friends happy. It gives me pleasure to watch them get married and start a life with someone.”

“Ah, I do not believe that for one second. You see, I was in a very similar position to you several years ago. Well, more than several, twenty-eight would be more accurate. I had just been the best man at her father’s wedding,” he nodded toward the bride. “I sat there with that same sad smile watching him dance with his beautiful new bride. And right in that moment, I realized something. I would never be that groom. I would never dance with a beautiful new bride. I wasn’t sad, at first. I thought I would be ok. I thought I could make it through life by myself. I would just watch my friends, and some of their happiness would rub off on me-“

“No, no, I don’t think that will happen. The right girl will come along, I believe in that firmly. I'm not like you; I know that I won’t end up alone. I know it.”

He shook his head. “For a few weeks after that wedding I thought. I thought a lot. I realized this: Some people are meant to be happy, some people are not. I’m not sure that I believe in God, or any higher being, but I believe that the universe has a give and take. The good has to balance out the bad. Some people have to suffer for others to prosper.

I came to the conclusion that I was one of the chosen to be burdened with the bad. In order for my friends to be happy, for them to enjoy life with their wives and husbands and children, I had to be alone. When I first came to this conclusion, I took the noble path. I decided that I would be ok with it, that I was willing to suffer in order for so many of my loved ones to be happy. For a few years, I was able to carry my burden. But as I grew older, and my friends became more reclusive with their families, I realized something else. This was not a burden that I was willing to carry much longer. And now, after years of being alone, watching my friends live their lives, happily together with the most important person in their life, I can honestly say I do not want this path. There is no man I would wish this path upon. I tell you this now as a warning for the hardships you face ahead of you. You will be alone. You will not hold a woman in your arms, and know that you only need each other. There is nothing you can do to avoid this. You are one of the chosen ones, the sufferer. In this sense, you and me are together, but trust me, you will never be more alone.” He nodded his head toward me and left.

I sat there in a stunned silence. I didn’t want to believe him, but he planted the seed of doubt in my mind.





Three years after the wedding, I proved the man at the wedding wrong. I found a girl. She had wavy, light brown hair. Her eyes were green. Her smile made my heart jump. Every single day I thanked God that I had found this incredible girl. We were happy. I was happy. For a few months we dated, then I realized something: I loved her.

One night we went to dinner at our favorite restaurant. It was a small, exclusive place, and we always reserved a table a few months in advance. As we were sitting at dinner, I looked up from my meal and saw her with a small smile looking at me. And the only thing I could think was “This is the most beautiful girl in the world and I have the best luck in the world to be sitting across from her.” I smiled back.

Our house was a short walk through the park to downtown and the restaurant. As we walked back home, her hand in my mind, sharing a content silence, I thought something else: “I am going to marry her.”

I spent several weeks picking out the ring. I couldn’t have anything less than perfect for this girl. She deserved the single most beautiful ring that ever existed. She deserved everything.

Then I spent the next few days planning my proposal. I knew where I had to do it: in the park after a meal at our favorite restaurant. I called into the restaurant and asked for their next available reservation. They told me it was six weeks away. I decided to take it; I had already been dating her for two years, what harm could six more weeks be?

I made a mistake. Three weeks before the day that I planned to propose, I received a call just after eight o’clock at night. My soon to be fiancée was in an accident. I rushed to the hospital, every situation running through my mind, none of them good. When I arrived, I was told that she was in surgery. The nurse informed me that it would take several hours and advised me to go home and rest. I followed her advice.

In the afternoon of the next day, I got called back into the hospital. I talked to the surgeon. He told me that my girlfriend- my love- was going to die. She wouldn’t make it through the night. When I heard this, I died inside. There was nothing left for me to live for, but she was still alive for now. I masked my emotions and walked into the room.

She looked up as I entered. She smiled at me, which crushed my heart even more. We talked for several hours, about little things, about big things, about everything except the next day. Finally, after talking for so long, I took a deep breath and asked her the question I had waited my whole life to ask her: “Will you marry me?”

She looked at me, wanting to protest, but she looked into my eyes and saw that this is what I wanted, what I needed. Tears started to form at the corners of her eyes. “Yes.”

Her name was Amanda.





After Amanda died, I was inconsolable. I missed her. I missed her so much, but she was gone and my life was meaningless. My friends reached out to me, trying their best to help me get past the death of the love of my life. But it was of no use. Their efforts started to fade as the years went by. None of them could understand what I was feeling. They were happy, spending each day with the love of their lives, a privilege that was denied to me.

I realized that the man at the wedding was right. There was a give and take in this world. Some people were chosen to be happy while other people were chosen to suffer. All my friends were chosen to be happy. They had wives and husbands and children. They were loved and cherished by their families. I was given the lonely path. I did not have a wife and children. I was not loved or cherished. I feared being alone, of never growing old with someone, and I had never allowed myself to think that it would happen. But I was wrong. I was chosen to suffer.


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