Silently, eating eating a corner, I slowly eat my Jolibee French Fries, alone and left to observe the feeling of eating outside by myself. It is a very odd feeling--doing this for the first time, realizing that I always was coming her with companions and such.
When you are with someone, you wouldn't be able to feel what being alone is like; no one to talk with, no one to share your food with--no one to share your rude thoughts about the funny eating habits the person at the next table beside you looks like. Also, it is a funny, yet pitiful emotion--because you tend to appreciate and empathize other people who who eats alone.
What do they think about? Are they waiting for someone to come, and that overflowing feeling of that person arriving? Do people who eat alone tend to eat quicker, because when they arrive at their destination, the ones they love are waiting? Or are they bitter enough to curse the couples, who eat sweetly, murmuring that someday they'll split up as well?
But me, eating alone in this energetic fast food chain, made me realize once again of how lonely being alone is like, while eating--and while living.
