The light was fading and the drizzle still hadn’t stopped as I drove home past a guy, standing beside the A1 with a bucket of roses and a sodden, torn sign.
Sights like this make me sad.
At 5 O’clock on a rainy, winters afternoon, people shouldn’t be standing alone in the rain, especially when it’s Valentines day. It makes me wonder what the point of it all is, really; and whether I’ll ever make sense of what we’re doing here –
And then I remembered, as the lights changed, that we don’t really know the answer, and we’ll probably never get what it’s all about; but the thing that keeps it going is a little four letter word called Love –
Because, when all’s said and done, it’s love that makes the futile feel bearable and gives meaning to what’s mostly mundane; and, it’s the human connections that provide an anchor when everything else is a little hard to grasp.
So, instead of feeling sad as I drove past the man in the rain, and rather than feeling sorry for myself, as I headed back to my empty flat, I felt an unexpected kind of connection and a strange kind of peace with it all; because the answers to life might be totally out of my grasp –
But the point of it isn’t.