The Echoing Silence

Alone in the office as everyone has left for the day, returning to their families, I sit working still. At least two hours have past if I remember from the glow of setting suns, and I am almost done. There’s nothing waiting for me at home, except an empty silence. Yet there’s also nothing keeping me here this late. Except if I were to guess, the lesser of two boredom’s.

By staying in this chair longer, I get to know I’ve done something worthwhile rather than being bored watching random movies. The silence of home and that of the office are similar though have different effects. One will drive a man crazy in a short span of time, while the other will just force a productive drive.

The clacking of keys and mouse clicks as the screen lights up with a multitude of colors as lines cross and connect each other bring about a clearer understanding of an architects intentions. The wonder of everything fitting together, being created from scratch to show an idea coming into reality is just enough to keep the drive going stronger than the silence around me. One last click of the mouse and the printer comes screaming to life, ready to take away my screen for paper. The light outside is now gone, and its time to leave this quiet until the morning to repeat the day.

The drive back to my apartment is filled with street lights of the city, the traffic no longer existent at this hour. Soft country music plays just low enough to know its there, keeping the silence at bay a little longer. Eight miles of city and country roads later, the driveway welcomes me back, the silence of it all just waiting, grows heavy. Knowing that nothing lies behind that door other than a pile of blankets, shatters the soul. Greeted by their pictures on the fridge, brings tears to my eyes, while the calendar next to the door slowly counts the days until I will see them again.

The routine of night, useless as always, brings about a sandwich or two, checking of emails to ignore, and a quick message to my love. The floor, even with blankets, is uncomfortable at best, tolerable at worse. Six to seven hours of sleep pass quickly, though regrettably at times. Surrounded by a thick layer of deafening silence throughout the night, only to be broken by the alarms screaming at me to awaken. The morning light just barely coming through the windows as I ready for the day, seem like tiny beams of hope that this night may prove easier than the last.

Following the beams as they grow brighter, the city slowly comes to life as kids are playing on porches, waiting for the bus. Traffic picks up slowly the closer I get to the office, but even surrounded by others, it still feels as though I am completely alone on the road. It’s dark as I walk through the front door, soon replaced with a welcoming glow that bid me goodbye the night before. After walking up the stairs to my desk, a familiar hum is heard as the computer powers up once more. It’s time once again to take ideas and lines from a sketch and turn them into something more.

My echoing silence seems to always be one step behind me, ready to remind me that its there at every opportunity it gets.

Damn this fucking loneliness…

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