The sun doesn’t shine on people like me by Ken Tomaro

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The sun doesn’t shine on people like me,

 From Ken’s Gratitude Journal

 

or at the very least, hasn’t in a long time. A lifetime. I told my therapist that while I can laugh once in a while, I’m not finding much enjoyment in anything.

 

I bought a new couch recently. The biggest and most expensive purchase I have made in decades. I couldn’t wait to get rid of the old one. It was small, too short to lie on without my feet hanging over the edge. It was not soft by any means. And most importantly, it represented a part of life I wanted to close the chapter on. My sister ordered it online shortly after she had the stroke, and as far as I know, never sat on it once.

 

It would take about three weeks for the new couch to arrive, and during that time, I found no enjoyment in it whatsoever. This was just one more thing I had to rearrange my schedule for, giving up an entire Saturday waiting for it to be delivered. The sole purpose of this expensive purchase wasn’t, in my mind, for comfort but rather for laziness. I nervously spent a few hours wondering if it would even fit through the door of my apartment, assuming that all doors are universal and that the previous tenants must have had a couch that fit.

 

The couch was a light green and long enough for me to stretch out on, envisioning myself taking many naps like the cartoon character Andy Capp. It fit through the door with some encouragement and was firm enough to hold my sizable ass, yet comfortable enough to doze off rather quickly. I pass it every day on my way to make coffee in the morning, giving it a pat as if to let it know it’s a good little couch. It is mine, purchased in full with my own money, and it does bring comfort, which is unfamiliar territory for me.

 

Maybe I had it wrong. The weeks leading up to the delivery were not the focus, as I was reminded of what the therapist told me. Maybe the enjoyment doesn’t come until the couch comes. It was such a simple thought and made perfect sense.

© Ken Tomaro

Ken Tomaro

 

Ken Tomaro is a writer living in Cleveland, Ohio, whose work reflects everyday life with depression. His poetry has appeared in several online and print journals and explores the common themes we all experience in life. Sometimes blunt, often dark, but always grounded in reality.

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