“I don’t get it. ” I said.

I’m irritated and I’m trying hard not to make it visable. I don’t want anyone in this small cafe to notice. Thats my ego. I hate that about myself: I feel humiliated at the slightest hint of any emotion.
“I’m not aware that I’m doing anything wrong, but I keep getting in trouble. Its like the better I feel, the worse I make others feel.”

“Well of course, my boy. You’re a wanderer”
Its been about two hours of bullshit but the man across from me still speaks with ease as if we had just sat down. “The only thing you need is something that will still be there when you get back”

I don’t drink coffee, so I’m staring down at the table. No eye contact. My back Is slumped and my shoulders are arched inward towards my chest. Im making myself small. This is a habit of mine. Im sure its psychologically indicative of bad self esteem. But, I think its more agoraphobic than anything. When I go places, I habitually find a dark corner or back chair to slump into and make myself small so that no one knows I’m even there. I can come and go as I please. If I need to escape, I can do so without incident. Its almost like I’m a…..

“A ghost” he interupting my introspective daydream.

“Huh?”

“Its like you’re a ghost or a wild animal or something.” He said while sliding his cappuccino back and forth between his hands on the table.

“I was under the impression that there was a pretty distinct difference between the two”

“The similarity is that no matter how much they are loved, they can not officially belong to anyone. No matter how many leashes or séances. A wild animal will eventually wander off into the headlights of a truck, and a ghost will eventually “go towards the light”” He looked down at his lukewarm drink and smirked a little bit. “…….I guess what im saying is….. stay away from lights.” a soft chuckle finally burst through before the mug touched his lips.

“What happens if I go towards the light? Do I wake up? Would you be alive again?”

“No, then you make people cry even more, asshole!” He laughed even harder this time and I noticed some of the other patrons shoot us “the look.” It was a joke but I could feel a hint of seriousness behind it.

“Lets face it, kiddo. Your instincts will always betray your intellect”