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Show Me The True Difference... If You Can

There is no real separation.

By Dream SilasPublished 3 years ago 8 min read
5
Show Me The True Difference... If You Can
Photo by Ev on Unsplash

My tweed and leather Mary Janes took turns hitting the New York City pavement.

The sound of daily hustle and bustle and fast living New Yorkers filled my ears.

But my attention was strangely caught by the steady voice of a man resting on a corner I was just about to pass. He was sitting on a dirty green crate with a bag of clothes beside him.

He held up a crumpled paper sign that read:

I’m sorry to bother you but I am very hungry and very cold.

I read the sign and then attempted to walk away.

“We belong to the same country. Maybe we’re the same in some way. I know you don’t owe me anything. But the sun is setting now and tonight it will fall way below freezing and into the negatives. I just need something to keep me warm.”

His voice sounded familiar to me but in a distant way.

I peered to the west where I saw the orange setting sun. I clenched the top of my warm wool coat to stop my neck from being exposed to the frigid air. It was getting colder by the second. Little flakes of snow began dropping from the sky.

I turned my attention back to the poor guy. Snowflakes now littered his brown hair and the peach sun beamed so intensely on his face. It revealed his eyes that looked like glass orbs that could shatter any minute.

“Look, I’m not giving you anything. I’m sorry that you were dealt a bad hand in this life but it’s not my problem, not my fault.”

As I let those words slip from my mouth, I could see my reflection in his eyes. It was as if I was watching myself star in a film on a tiny screen.

He didn’t say a word.

I then watched him pull out from under his blanket, a heavily worn-out little black book. It looked like it had been through a great war. I was surprised it was still completely intact; a credit to its manufacturer.

He then took an old yellow pencil and danced on a page with his left hand. I’ve never seen a hand move that fast and with so much keen precision. He was focused.

I walked away leaving him seemingly enthralled by his book.

By Dylan Freedom on Unsplash

My father’s words entered my head soon after I stepped away. He would always warn me to never give a homeless person money because they’d misuse it and buy alcohol and drugs.

And somehow, within a quick moment, I felt justified in not giving the glass-eyed guy anything. I wasn’t going to support his habit.

I was doing him a favor.

***

When I had returned home that night, the living room tv was blaring. It was on the weather channel. I picked up the remote and before I could turn the tv off, I heard the weather lady say,

“Tonight will be a cold one. The coldest night of the year so far with a bone-chilling -3 degrees. Stay safe and keep your loved ones warm.”

I quickly hit the red button on the remote to silence the tv.

Sitting on my couch for a brief second, I thought of the glass-eyed guy, his voice, and how cold it’d become tonight.

My forming thoughts were interrupted by my husband coming through the front door. I stood up from the couch and smiled at him. But my smile quickly faded from my face when I saw the anger on his.

He came to me and handed me divorce papers. He told me that I had no kindness in me, I was too cold of a wife, and he had grown sick of tolerating it.

He wanted me out of his house by the end of the month.

It was already the 22nd of January.

***

I had found a reasonable Air BnB in the heart of the city. It was easy to commute to work from there. I could stay in the house for a week while I sorted through my options.

But...

my options began to dwindle faster and faster without reason. I checked my savings account and it was completely empty.

I called my bank and they told me that I hadn’t deposited money into that account in over a year.

I knew that it wasn’t true. I had deposited my unexpected inheritance of $20,000 from a distant uncle in my account two months prior.

But they insisted that that wasn't the case.

I had spent the last of my money I had on-hand booking this Air BnB.

I had no money.

I had no plan.

The room began to spin and so I lied down in the small bedroom to find my composure; to make sense of anything,

But the first thought that came to mind when my head hit the pillow was

“Look, I’m not giving you anything. I’m sorry that you were dealt a bad hand in this life but it’s not my problem, not my fault.”

I fell asleep ruminating on what I had said to the glass-eyed man.

The next morning I headed to work and within an hour, I was right back at the Air BnB.

I had been fired from my job.

They said that I had been performing poorly for the last 6 months without any improvement. They explained to me that the company couldn’t afford to take any more hits.

I maxed out all of my credit cards paying for hotels and Air BnBs. And I exhausted all of my resources and connections prior to my crisis.

I had no one and nothing.

By Andre Benz on Unsplash

Within a month, I was living on the New York City streets; the result of having no money, no options.

The shelters were full and I was sent away from each of them. They were extremely competitive during this time of year. It was the dead of winter and it's deadly to be outside in this type of weather.

Most of my things had been stolen when I’d go and use a public bathroom. I tried to keep my belongings hidden but when I’d return from the restroom, my things would be gone every time.

I had tried to hold up a sign to maybe collect a few dollars but people kept passing me by or scoffing at me.

I felt like vermin.

This one couple had told me that they didn’t want want to give me money; they thought I’d spend it all on drugs and alcohol.

I was speechless at the irony. I realized that I used to indulge in alcohol just to take the edge off of normal life sometimes. And in the same breath, I’d deny a person with no home money...

What if they too wanted to take the edge off? They'd have more reason than I did.

And now that I’m in the same predicament. Anything that could stop me from feeling things as intensely as I do would be appreciated.

It was the coldest day I had ever experienced.

I was the hungriest I had ever been.

The people were the harshest I’ve ever seen; a dark side of humanity that I've been sheltered from until now.

I had nothing but my wool coat on my back and $5 in my coat pocket that I had luckily found in the snow.

I spent four dollar bills on a thin, cheap fleece blanket I got from the discount store.

And I spent one dollar on a small hot cup of coffee.

I found a nice empty corner and I sat there, putting the thin fleece blanket over my head. I huddled up into myself while slowly sipping from my cup.

It was a long, cold night.

...

By Phil Henry on Unsplash

In the morning, I looked to the east, at the rising sun. Its warmth felt so good on my cold face. I was freezing and hungry, but I felt thankful for the sun of a new day.

I once again covered myself in my fleece blanket until I felt something standing before me. I pulled the blanket from over my head to investigate.

It was the glass-eyed guy. He was dressed well, clean, and wore a smile on his face. His eyes scanned me for a second and I looked away in pure embarrassment.

He sat beside me and handed me a pair of gloves, a wool hat, a knitted scarf, and that tattered black notebook.

I immediately put each article of winter wear on me and then proceeded to open the book on the page where the bookmark had been.

I opened up to a drawing of me on the day of our interaction. The drawing captured me in such an interesting light. I was so rude to him that day and yet, he drew a beautiful portrait of me with the sun setting in the west, and snow coming down gently. At the bottom, there was a location and date that read: NYC 2017.

Out of curiosity, I flipped to a random page in the middle of the book and found another drawing of me in front of a vibrant yellow building. I looked the same yet at the bottom, it read: Central Italy, 1999

I flipped through every page of the book and on every page, there I was. In places that I’ve never been, at times that didn’t make sense.

I looked at the glass-eyed man and he had explained to me that he and I had been reliving the same problem over and over. But in slightly different forms, during slightly different times.

We had been doing the same twisted dance ceaselessly.

I would ignore his humanity, I’d lose everything, and he'd come and help me. It was our 7,000th time reliving a similar circumstance.

I never learned my lesson in compassion and kindness.

"And so we’ll live it again and again until we realize that there's no separation between us; no true difference," he revealed to me in that familiar voice.

I simply wept and held my head in shame.

fact or fiction
5

About the Creator

Dream Silas

I love to write about love, the beautiful, and the natural world.

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