Someone Like Him by Alex Rafael Encomienda

     When I was thirteen, I saw a man sitting on a bench overlooking the Santa Barbara Pier. I sat on that bench once. It had a beautiful view. The oceanic tumble of each wave against the shore, the glare of the sunlight in the distance, and the sound of the vast tides after each calm moment; it was a remarkable scene. However, I couldn’t help but notice how lonely the man looked. It was as if he was missing a piece. He looked profoundly incomplete. In my eyes, he needed a woman.

     If there was anything in this world that I didn’t want to be, it was someone like him. To be alone, lacking the sentimentality of having loved. I may have been a poor judge or terribly mistaken, but my free-thinking and ever growing pubescent mind couldn’t help but share his loneliness for that brief moment.

     So many years have passed since I made the decision to find my other half. When I turned eighteen, I wished upon a star. My wish was that I’d find and marry the love of my life. I wanted the excitement, the boredom, the romantic things, and everything in between. I knew in my head that  I’d be the happiest person in the world if I ever found someone.

     I spent a good portion of my teenage years and early twenties wishing to find someone for me. After several attempts to start a relationship, I began to doubt my potential. I pretended to be okay, surrounding myself with one-way friendships and so-called “friends”.

     I’d come home from work, enjoy a frozen dinner and watch actors pretend they were in love while love was becoming a foreign subject to me like addiction or fatherhood. People I knew on a surface level tried to cheer me up but I hated the small talk. I did not want to converse. It was always the same Hey James, how’s it going at work? Any girls? Any new friends? And do you want to talk about it?

     However, when I turned twenty-nine, I met a beautiful woman named Jia. Things were different. Within the first few months of being together, my perspective had changed drastically and I began to feel like a new man. The things  I thought about so deeply began to fade into the background of my new life with her. It was as if I was living someone else’s life and I could finally relate to the films I watched and the music I listened to. I never wanted this life to end so I felt, in a way, that I had something worth living and dying for.

     We shared everything together. When she was happy, so was I, and when she was upset, I was too. We shared the most romantic, intimate moments with each other and had passionate sex every night. When she got sick, I got sick as well. When one of us had money, we both had money. I loved glaring into her eyes as we both rested in bed and I loved brushing the strands of hair off her face. I loved looking at her.

     I was the happiest person in the world.

     As years passed by, however, our relationship had become somewhat broken or questionable. I began to have more bad days than good days and often questioned the notion of togetherness and oneness. I was afraid to believe my unhappiness because it would become real so I hid it the best I could for years at a time. I began to miss my old life and wondered why I ever complained about being happy and single. I was conflicted, for the first time in my life, because I loved Jia so much that it was impossible to imagine my life without her. However, the circumstances that we faced and the way we felt needed to be resolved for the sake of our happiness.

     Was it to be or not to be? Is she the one I wished for? If we stay together, will we find a way for both of us to be happy? If we part ways, will we ever meet again as friends after so long?

     What is it they say?… It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.

     Many years have passed. I am now sixty-two years old and counting. I started taking piano lessons and became quite fond of painting, particularly the art of Dadaism. Jia and I have parted ways. We held on as long as we could and pulled on every string just to stay afloat but ultimately, we were better off living separate lives.

     Through the despair, the joy, the manic depression, the anxiety, and the torture of love, it was all worth it. I had loved and having been loved, I can say that I am content with what I put into the universe as a man. It was worth every second.

     I am standing at the boardwalk looking ahead at the watchful glare of the sunset. The waves crash and settle after each moment of silence. The glitter of reflection at the center of the ocean looks still and serene. Suddenly, the only thing I wanted was to be; to become someone like him.

About the Author:
Alex Rafael Encomienda is an author and editor of literary, genre and absurdist fiction as well as poetry. Alex began writing at age nine. He attended writing workshop and lecture classes in college and since then has had his work published in several notable literary magazines such as Adelaide magazine and The 5th Wall Press. His most recent story, "Carnality" was published in The Literary Parrot's fall 2021 issue.