My Mall-and-Loneliness Day

Photo by Wendy Wei from Pexels

Today, I went to the mall.

It’s the first time since she left me.

Not that I never went to the mall alone. It happened. But in the last twenty years, trips to the malls were usually a couple-thing.

I know it sounds strange, but I love malls. We lived (and I still live) in an area with plenty of malls. One, in particular, is one of the largest and beautiful malls in Europe. It’s in front of an airport, and many fly there just for that mall.

It’s not a matter of age. You love or hate malls. If you love them, the mall day is a party.

She doesn’t love malls. It’s not something she wanted to do by her will. But she could appreciate it if it was a rare event.

Mall days usually didn’t start well. A fight about something, like usual, at some point. Maybe probably because a trip to the mall wasn’t the best plan for her. But, once there, things went better. We had lunch there — Japanese or large sandwiches — and we could walk around for hours without encountering the same shop twice. We visited a lot of stores. Sometimes we came back empty-handed, sometimes we would spend a fortune. The latter, it’s a thing of years ago, to be precise.

We came back in the evening, tired, and we usually had sex. Which added party to the party. Then, pizza.

Yes, mall days were a party, if it wasn’t clear yet.

And no, she didn’t leave me because of the malls, even if she didn’t remain with me because of the malls too.

Today, I was working on a software I don’t like. I would have been a little pickier, usually, but money is money, especially when your world is falling apart, and you’re single.

Money, by the way. What a wrong reason for doing things. We passed from hunting for meat and furs to working for bills and the dentist. Yes, the dentist is a pleasant add-on, but we could also hope for something better, over a thousand years.

Whatever, the software started to work, and I decided that remaining stuck in my room for too many days wasn’t healthy, and that it was a good moment to spend a few hours away from the PC. I’m not in the mood for seeing the world, but I’m 51 and I’m old enough to know that life goes and must go on.

So, I went. And it wasn’t bad. Music in the car, music in the mall. Lights, people.


I did a little shopping too. Not much, of course. I suspect that I must be prudent, with the money thing, now. But little shopping is better than no shopping, for morale.

I stayed there no more than a couple of hours. Probably less.


Enough for a little welcome change, but also enough to feel upset.

I welcome loneliness. I’m a close friend of loneliness. And that’s a big chunk of why my wife left. But nobody loves loneliness for life.

And a mall can be a perfect place for feeling alone.

Back to the parking, my car was not there. Or better, I had no idea of where it was. That huge parking has colors. And letters. Mixed. My car was in the “red,” but there are several red zones. I didn’t notice it was also “G.”

Finding the car was my wife’s role. I’ve always had problems with orientation.

Maybe because I knew she would find the car. A habit more than twenty years old.

She didn’t leave me because of that. But she also didn’t stay with me because of that.

Life has memory. And regurgitates.

I can’t blame her, actually.

And I guess I’ve to start to pay attention to a lot of other things now.



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Stan Smith

Stan Smith


I’m not Stan Smith. But either I write under a pen name or I explode. Chances are, we already met here on Medium.