When there's no one to wake you up in the morning, and nothing waiting for you when you come home at night. You can do whatever you want without worrying about anyone stopping you, because no one will forbid anything you do. What do you call this situation? Freedom? Or loneliness?
I call it freedom. Loneliness is what you get from it.
It's not that I hate freedom, in fact, I love it. Without freedom, a slave could never break free from the chains around his neck.
But the freedom I'm talking about now is different.
It's a freedom where you feel unbound by anything, anyone, anywhere, anytime. It's a terrifying kind of freedom, something I really hate. That's why I hate being free, and that's why I'm grateful to have a family.
In the morning, I'm woken up by my little sister with her silly antics, and in the evening, I often hear the words "Welcome back" from my family members.
My father is still strict, forbidding me from trying to hurt others without reason. Although, from the beginning, I've never had the desire to hurt anyone.
Avoiding problems is my specialty as someone with a handful of friends. It's not because I do it on purpose, but because I always think about everything and become too afraid of the consequences.
I'm not afraid of not being able to solve problems. I'm just afraid of the unpredictable nature of human relationships. I haven't even been able to understand Beatrice, someone who's been close to me since childhood.
That's why sometimes I'm happy when I correctly predict someone's actions. It makes me happy because I realize I can still feel the same emotions as other humans.
No matter what, I'm still human. I have emotions, but I'm just not used to them. I've been aware of this for a long time, maybe even from the beginning.
But one thing always makes me wonder.
"Why was I can so sure of my feelings back then, but right know i can't?"
That question always pops into my head almost every time I'm alone.
But actually, what I really want to know is myself. Understanding my own emotions is just one thing I think can help me find what I'm looking for.
I'm searching for myself, and it's not without reason.
A few years ago, at a violin competition, someone talked about me to the people around them. He spread the word that I was very arrogant because I didn't greet him when him greeted me first.
To be honest, it was also my fault, but it doesn't mean I'm arrogant. I just didn't know what to do and ended up staying silent, not doing anything. Afterward, he put on a sulky face and said, "So that's it, I don't have the right to talk to someone as great as you, do I?" Then he left and spread the story.
"Why do humans love to jump to conclusions on their own?" That question came to my mind from that moment on.
And slowly I realized that humans have always been like that, unconsciously. It's a sign that he is confident in himself, and honestly, that's a good thing. But he use it in the wrong way.
Jumping to conclusions without thinking twice is a foolish act.
But I'm sure he is not stupid. There's just a factor of resentment from losing to me in the competition that day that makes him think about finding anything that can make him feel better. One of their choices is to find something bad about me and talk about it with others.
He used me to satisfy himself so he wouldn't be too depressed.
Honestly, I'm a little impressed with him. He have good self-management to be able to survive in society. It's just that I don't like his way of sacrificing others for his own satisfaction.
But I'm not too bothered by his actions. I didn't even think about revenge. I don't even remember his name or even his face. It means he is so insignificant in my memory that I unconsciously have no desire to remember him.
I just remember that he spread the rumor that I'm arrogant. And that triggered me to learn more about myself.
Since then, I've always asked the same question to everyone I meet, even those who knew me for the first time.
"What do you think of me?"
But strangely, their answers are different. Even though sometimes there are similarities, everyone has a different opinion about how they see me as a human being.
Some people think I'm kind and caring.
Some people think I'm a silent devil who just wants to live peacefully.
Some people think I'm insensitive and stupid.
Some people think I'm a loner.
And there are even many other versions that make me even more confused about myself.
"Which one of all these 'me' is the real me?"
That question started to appear, and even now, I'm still searching for it. Even though it's useless, at least I'm grateful that I still have time to think about things like this. It makes me realize that my life is peaceful enough for me to calmly think about many things.
But no matter how much I think, I never know which one is the real me.
I know it's my fault because I often try to adapt to my surroundings and act like someone else to make it easier to get along. But that was just the past. I'm tired of lying to others and myself. But because I stopped acting, most people started to avoid me. Only a few people are still close to me, even after they know I'm a very boring person.
But I don't care anymore about how others see me. I'm too tired to live with a facade. I just want to enjoy reality comfortably without deception towards others and myself. That's why I stopped acting like someone else and acted as I usually do.
But it's precisely after I stopped lying to myself that I began to realize. That sometimes, unconsciously, my fake self often takes over my body. It's like they've slowly become one of me. It makes me even more confused about who I really am.
But slowly I realized that it's always been like that. I realized that I actually just adjust my attitude according to the person I'm with.
I'm aware of it, but I still can't recognize myself. Because I don't have anything that can make me define myself as someone.
That's why I named myself as the gray man, fitting for me who only knows my own name but not myself.