Abnormal

Useless... Meaningless... What was the point in going anymore? Sure there was a lot of things waiting on him. Sure there's plenty of years left to pursue dreams and goals; but what goals? What dreams? Suicide was not an option. It never was, and never will be. There just was no purpose left in his mind.

He kicked a rock off the cliff edge and gazed into the horizon a little longer. The sun was setting, and he needed to get home soon. It wasn't a bad thing, but he wished he could stay out here until his mind was clear. So many things clouded his thinking these days. What he was doing. What he wasn't doing. What he could do, or choose not to... It seemed like it might be easier to just give up. It won't prove anything though. There is no valor or nobility in quitting... but there is peace sometimes. At least it felt like there would be.

It was easier to just stop trying after awhile. Too much disappointment tends to wear on a person after awhile, and the thought of that pain felt like more than he could bear. What was disappointing... What was making him hurt like that... He didn't know what was bothering him, but it ate at him like a leech. Draining the joy from his heart, and the hope from his mind. He wanted it to stop, but didn't even know what it was.

The last rays of sunlight left enough light to walk back to his car. It was a battered old police cruiser, white with a blue stripe still on its side, and paint chipping around the edges of the doors. The right tail-light was covered with transparent red tape, a temporary fix until the lense was replaced, and the doors squeeked when you opened them. It wasn't much to look at on the surface, but the inside did it no justice either. The soft blue interior was fairly clean from a recent trip to the carwash, but the back seat and floor was littered with trash from numerous meals out, and miscellaneous unwanted items. The passenger's side was stained from coffee that never came out, regardless of how much cleaning supplies he had used. To top it all off, it ran like a charm... sometimes. It wasn't well maintained though, and was having major issues running more and more often the less he cared for it. Kind of expected out of a teenager's first vehicle.

He cranked it up, turned on the headlights and begin to make his way down the mountian trail leading him home. They were rough dirt roads, likely taken care of less than his car was. Nothing about them made the trip any easier during rains... which were the best times to gaze from the cliff. Rain and thunderstorms were always very calming to him. Something about the dangerous power and the light of darkness. It was always a good time to cry with the wind and let frustration take hold for a time. Yes, he always felt better after he'd cry awhile. But people worried about him when he started to withdraw from social activities.

He'd have ups and downs, and people began noticing that the downs came more regularly for awhile, and during those periods, a very depressed young man is who wandered aimlessly and without purpose. Not the very polite, and almost relentless pursuer and encourager he normally was. He was a dreamer, but never got past the imaginative stage of development. Always 5 steps ahead of his own thoughts, he accomplished very few goals. In lieu of that, reflective thoughts sent his hope on a downward spiral.