The Beauty in Melancholy

'Old Time Blues' played softly from an old record player inside the tavern. The place was empty, apart from a single bartender wiping a cup at the bar to my right and the slow flicker of a neon green light above the door I'd just walked in. I lowered my head as I walked slowly over to the bar, taking a seat on one of the maroon stalls. I had been driving for so long I didn't know where I was anymore. I didn't care. At least now my whereabouts reflected that of my mind. Lost.

"Drink?"

My eyes jolted up at the sound of the bartender's voice. He stared at me as he continued wiping the glass casually, a beard donning his face.

I nodded. "Anything."

He poured a glass of whiskey and placed it down in front of me.

I stared at the glass. I'd tried to drown out the pain with alcohol before, but the relief was only temporary.

"Something on your mind?"

I turned my eyes to the bartender again. "...Something like that." I wrapped my hands around the glass, staring intently at it.

"What brings you here?" he asked.

I avoided his piercing gaze, not wishing to tell a stranger what had driven me here. But with no other soul in sight to intercept the conversation, he stood blankly awaiting my answer. The silence between us lingered on longer.

I tried to muster up the courage to say something. "I..." I took a sip from my glass, forgetting how strong the taste of whiskey was on my tongue.

"You..?" His voice echoed.

The green light on the door flickered in the corner of my eye, never quite managing to stay on long enough to illuminate the room.

"I don't know," I said.

"What?" he pressured again.

I tightened my grip around the cup, breathing out harshly. "Contemplating." I took another sip.

"Death?"

The alcohol burned my throat as I dropped the glass back down onto the counter. My scared eyes looked at him, shocked. How did he know? What made him so sure? Of all the people I'd been around, spoken to, hoped would pull me out of my misery, this stranger had managed to stare into my soul and see right away that I was broken.

I felt my throat close up as my heart beat faster. My mind raced, pounding with hopeless thoughts and I felt the urge to run away just as I had done before.

My shaking hands felt for some cash inside my coat pocket and I took it out, quickly pushing it onto the counter. I stood up to leave, only for his hand to stop me before I could escape, resting gently on my arm.

"Please," he said calmly. "Stay."

The green light flickered again, on... off, as something changed within his eyes. I breathed out, slowly. I sat down.

He placed the cup he had been polishing on a nearby shelf carefully. He rested the tea towel in his other hand down on the counter. Leaning back against the bar, he looked at me - not curiously or casually this time, but in a gentle way that told me he knew.

"I tried a few years back."

His voice came out in a whisper, a subtle discomfort revisiting that memory.

"I wanted the pain to end. I couldn't do it anymore."

I watched him rub the side of his neck, taking a slow but deep breath in and out. His eyes trailed the ground momentarily, before he exhaled again and continued.

He spoke about his past and I listened, quietly. Lonesome days and melancholic madness that wouldn't leave him, a past that almost held up a reflection to my own. His voice seemed to comfort me from across the bar, a familiarity within his tone that I couldn't quite explain. And then one sentence stuck out to me, as if it were the answer I'd been reaching for but could never quite grasp. To know why, if there were some reason at all to this hurt, to this emptiness I'd been suffocating with internally for so long.

"Sometimes the worst pain can lead you to the most beautiful places."

He'd run away just like I had. He'd wanted to leave it all behind, to never have to think, to hurt, to cry, to bare the pain a moment longer. He was ready to let go. To stop breathing. To say goodbye. Until he ended up here.

"They run a program here, for people struggling with mental health, can you believe?" He joked, but really he seemed grateful. "Of all the places I could have stopped, I wound up here."

I watched his eyes beam with euphoria as he spoke about his time here. This place wasn't modern, nor filled with people or holding the ever-present excitement of a bustling city. It was a small town in the middle of nowhere. But he complimented its character, its nostalgic aura that made him feel connected in a way he'd not felt before, and then he mentioned the owner of the tavern who had reached out to him back then.

"Do you mind?" he asked, gesturing to a stool beside my own.

I looked down at the seat beside me then shook my head "no".

I sat silently as he walked around the bar. The green light flickered, longer this time. He sat down and after a moment, spoke once more. "I know it may feel like it, but this isn't your end," he said, causing my eyes to grow blurry.

"You are not a burden. You are not alone. There's an entire world out there just waiting for you to see it. It's beautiful and it's waiting to see you too."

I looked at him, a humble confidence and sincerity radiating from him, as I wiped a tear from my cheek.

To know there was a life beyond despair, to see it in the flesh, gave me hope indescribable. I thought that I'd forever be lost, trying to escape a never ending black hole that would eventually consume me. Yet this stranger at the bar, who had somehow felt everything that had destroyed me, was here. Alive. Full of peace and wholeness.

He handed me a napkin to wipe my eyes before reaching for a pen behind the counter. Taking another napkin, he wrote something down on it. "Here," he said, sliding his napkin over to me. "I know how hard it is to get through on your own, so please, call if you ever need to talk. I'll always be here."

I breathed out calmly and held onto the napkin. "But you don't even know me," I said.

"Not yet," he smiled at me, comfortingly.

I looked into this stranger's eyes one last time and thanked him for his story, grateful for what he had given me, knowing I would take his words with me as a light in the dark.

This wasn't my end. It was only my beginning. I didn't have all the plans of where I would go or what I would do or who I would be. But I felt hope in that I would make it through, just as he had, even if that meant holding on a little longer.

I wrapped my coat around me warmly and stood up to go, my eyes staring out beyond the door.

"What's your name?"

I turned my head towards him. "Raven."

"Like the bird," he smiled. "Fly high."

I smiled back for what felt like the first time in forever, a smile that didn't feel like it would fade away in time but rather it would stay with me. I turned away, looking at the napkin in my hand; 'A friend - call any time'.

As I headed towards the door, the green light flicked on. I looked at it as I walked, its glow reflecting brightly in my eyes. It illuminated the room. I walked out, immersed in its green haze.