Heartbeat: The Midnight Detective
Shared by Patrick Berridge.
I stay up late at night thinking about the same problem I’ve been having for the past four years. Every time I’ve had something I love, I lose it and begin to lose my sanity. I’ve always thought it was easier to live life as a lone drifter. No home, no people holding you back. You look out for yourself and watch your own back. People like me find comfort in solitude. It’s a fleeting luxury of course; After a while, all you want is the presence of another human being and so you do the unthinkable: you trust.
You trust others when they speak and you give people the benefit of the doubt, because you believe everyone has noble intentions until one day finally it happens. By chances of pure coincidence you meet someone, but this person isn’t just anyone. No this individual is different from the others you’ve encountered. At first you watch them for a bit to get a sense of who they are. Maybe if you watch them for long enough, you’ll see something that makes you change your mind. Days go by as you observe them in secret, but you can’t find anything bad about them. In fact, you’re even more fascinated by this person. Since you’ve done your homework, there’s no harm in meeting them now. After a few awkward hellos and a small embarrassing moment you finally get a chance to talk to this person you’ve been watching. The first time you two talk you get this strange sensation, like this person belongs in your life. Fast forward a week and you two are inseparable. Every day is beautiful and you’re just happy to spend it with someone else. The idea of being alone is not only a distant memory, but a daunting fear.
How could you return to such a foreign lifestyle when you’ve met such a great person? Time passes and you start to feel distance in your relationship. Your love suddenly shatters before you like broken glass while the sharp pieces leave you with emotional scars that will never heal. You think to yourself “Where did it go wrong?” Arguments take the place of relaxing days. It’s become clear what’s happening but neither of you can openly admit it. It seems like yesterday the days were sunny and gorgeous, but a black cloud has found it’s way over your head. The storm it brings isn’t any better. After all the shouting and fingerpointing you both decide to end it. The fun times are officially over and it’ back to being on your own.
Are we doomed to repeat this process over and over again until we find “the one”? Does “the one” really exist or is that just a story we tell ourselves? Is the pain worth the trouble of trying?
Night falls and the insomnia kicks in. I search for clues to help answer my questions, but I have no luck. As I try to I try find answers I glance over at clock: It’s twelve am. If I’m going to investigate this further I’ll need a detective name. The Midnight Detective.
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