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He was alone.
That was the only thing he could focus on right now.
He knew, distantly, that there other things he should be focusing on. He was walking somewhere, it was raining (And wouldn't his wet clothes have bothered him any other time?), and it was starting to get dark. These were things that should matter to him. Would have mattered to him, even just a day ago.
Didn't matter now. Nothing mattered now.
Because he was alone, and it was his own fault.
"I'm just not happy anymore."
Who knew five words could leave someone so empty? He couldn't even remember what he'd said back to her. Not enough, probably. He never said enough, did enough.
She'd dropped by his apartment to talk about "Something serious", and before he knew it, the day had transformed from a random Friday into a nightmare he couldn't wake up from.
She had explained her thoughts to him, but trying to remember it was like watching a movie on mute.
She had hugged him before she left, but it was nothing like the hugs he remembered from her. It was stiff, awkward, she clearly didn't want to be doing it.
He didn't remember when she walked out of the apartment. He did remember, faintly, when he walked out of the apartment.
Probably hadn't even locked the door behind him.
He had no destination in mind, beyond "somewhere else".
So he walked. One foot in front of the other.
Part of him knew that he was tired, soaked through, and probably hopelessly lost. Part of him knew he should find his way home (Was it even home anymore?) before it got too dark.
The rest of him couldn't care. It was like he was watching his life from behind a sheet of glass.
So he walked.
One foot in front of the other.