Restroom Escape

I sat on the sofa in the public restroom foyer absorbing every bit of silence the room had to offer. I felt whole. The loneliness tickled my ears and my heart swelled. I could breathe the air that was only mine. No lump in my throat. Alone is better when I’m actually alone. When I am not obligated to the clock or the social demands of being in public. I need my room, the door closed, and my words. Alone with all the thoughts that  drown me when I can’t think them clearly. My emotions are written all over my face and sharing that with everyone around me is not my ideal evening. But sharing them with paper is one of my passions. I feel comforted with each tap of the keys. The screen of the computer the only thing here to see my tear smeared eyes without judgment or demanding an explanation. My thoughts pouring from me faster than I can think them. Reading everything I create and learning about myself as I go. Self-discovery through my impulsive thoughts. I bring myself back to the reality of where I really am. Hiding in a public restroom, not surrounded by the tranquility of my room. I take a deep breath and push myself off of the sofa.