A couple of nights ago

I saw a man sitting in an empty shop, eating his dinner of noodles alone. It was one of those unmemorable places with square tables in a row and floor-to-ceiling glass windows that afford you no privacy. A middle-aged man in black pants and long-sleeved collar shirt. One out of millions of greying office-drones in this world.

It reminded me of a guy I know who went over to Australia and ate by himself for six months, or so he says, because it was hard to fit in. That’s a long time to eat alone. He didn’t say outright that he minded though. Besides, he had a girlfriend there that he most likely called every day and saw during the weekends. And to put things into perspective, there are worse things that can happen to you than eating alone, be it for one night or six months. But that’s not the point here.

It’s ok to eat alone. Eating is one of those things you have to do to do, whether there are people available to eat with you or not. So there’s no point in making a fuss if you have to do it by yourself. And maybe he has a family to go home to or friends to hang out with but it just so happened that this time he had to stop by the first place he saw and grab a bite before rushing off to meet the people he loves. Maybe he isn’t really what he looked- a solitary figure with no family or place to belong to, sitting there with nothing to do but look at his noodles disappear.

Really, the reason why I'm saying all this is because I hope that he didn't feel as lonesome as I did when I saw him.