Jonathan had always lived a life most would call ordinary. He wasn't exceptionally smart, nor was he the life of any party. He didn't crave attention, thrill, or accolades. He simply moved with the rhythm of life, following its quiet, predictable beat like a metronome set to a singular tempo. His goals had always stayed the same. Graduate from university. Land a stable job. Keep your head down. Be responsible… no ambition, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing crazy. He just did everything he was supposed to do.
After graduating with a decent degree in accounting, a choice made more for its stability than passion, Jonathan found work in a mid-sized company that was barely staying afloat in a more redundant side of town for such a company, nestled inbetweeen a coffee shop and a dry cleaning shop. The building smelled perpetually of roasted beans and cleaning chemicals, a combination that somehow became comforting over time.
It wasn't a stretch to call his job stale, but that was exactly what he wanted. The occasional fever periods just kept things active. The most interesting part of his day was choosing what to eat after work, a decision he rarely spent more than a minute on. Usually, it was the same Chinese takeout from the corner, eaten while watching reruns of shows he'd seen a dozen times already.
His apartment wasn't too far off from where he walked, and for someone like him, it was no surprise that it was a reflection of his life, functional, clean, and distinctively unremarkable. It was a single bedroom with beige walls, a couch that had seen better days, and a coffee table stacked with unread books he'd bought with good intentions. The only splash of color came from a small succulent on his window, a gift from his mother that had somehow survived his neglect.
Earlier that year, his parents introduced him to someone. The daughter of a family friend, after all, they had long feared that their son would remain single for the rest of his life. The lady was a quiet, polite woman with kind eyes and a similar rhythm to life, though a bit more active when it came to personal development. She worked as a librarian, spoke softly, and shared his appreciation for comfortable silences.
For them, there was no dramatic spark, no love at first sight like in those ridiculous romance stories, just two people deciding to walk side by side down the same well worn path.
Their getting along was gentle and slow, but steady; coffee dates that turned into dinner dates, which evolved into quiet evenings watching movies on his aging couch. They shared books, discussed the weather, and found comfort in each other's predictable presence. It wasn't the stuff of fairy tales, but it was real, and it was theirs. Perhaps, the most activity came when they both tasted sex for the first time and bought into its pleasures.
In time, that quiet companionship led to wedding bells, of which the parents of both were more than joyous of.
Though the ceremony was simple and lovely, held in a small chapel with sunlight streaming through stained glass windows, their parents made sure to make it memorable for the couple, flying them out to the tropics for a short vacation.
Then came the honeymoon, which was perfectly planned by their parents, a week at a modest resort with soft beaches, room service that arrived punctually, and a rather great time shared together. It wasn't thrilling in the way adventure movies portrayed romance, but it was more than enough for those two. Jonathan felt at ease, perhaps more than he ever had in his life. For the first time, he allowed himself to believe that this quiet contentment might be enough.
Soon enough their time was up, and they had to return to their regular lives. Regardless, both of them were looking forward to the future together.
On the flight back, Jonathan had just buckled in, settling into the middle seat with practiced resignation. His wife beside him was flipping through the in-flight magazine, occasionally pointing out destinations they might visit someday, the taste of vacation had really given both of them something fun to invest in as their lives progressed.
Just as the plane was about to take off though, a sudden, crushing pressure gripped his chest like an iron fist, stealing the breath from his lungs with ruthless efficiency as his heart felt like it was being thrust with a hot rod. His vision blurred, the cabin lights becoming strange halos dancing at the edges of his sight. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, only clutching desperately at his chest, his fingers grasping at fabric as if he could somehow pull the pain away.
Panic rose in his eyes, a terror more complete than anything he'd ever experienced. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not to him. Not now. He was only twenty-eight, healthy, responsible, took his vitamins, walked to work. This was such an unforeseen event.
Sarah's voice seemed to come from underwater to him as she was panicking also, confused and crying for help. "Jonathan? Jonathan, what's wrong? Somebody help! Help!"
Even though a flight attendant was called, her professional calm soon cracked as she saw Jonathan's condition.
To Jonathan, the world became a blur of concerned faces, urgent voices, and the growing realization that his body was failing him in the most fundamental way possible. Everything had happened in under a couple minutes, but to him it felt like more than that.
He collapsed before they could even bring the oxygen mask, his last coherent thought a desperate prayer to a God he'd never been quite sure he believed in.
Sarah's screams faded into a blur, her voice joining a chorus of concerned passengers. Strangers watched helplessly, some covering their children's eyes, others reaching for their phones, and then, for Jonathan, there was only stillness.
His world faded into cold darkness long before the plane touched the ground.
In the emptiness that followed, a thousand thoughts raced through what remained of him. Memories flickered like old film reels… childhood birthdays where he'd blown out candles and wished for nothing in particular, school exams he'd passed with decent grades, job interviews where he'd given all the right answers, his wedding day when Sarah had smiled at him with such genuine affection.. perhaps the best of his memories... A life lived safely, quietly, responsibly… But now, that life was gone, extinguished without warning like a candle in a sudden wind.
Was that it? he wondered, his consciousness floating in a space between existence and void.
'Is this all I amount to? A shadow in the background of my own story?' He thought to himself. For some reason, he who had never cared for such things as accomplishments or ambition, felt a deep sense of regret grip his very being.
He had always believed that if he stayed on the right path, followed the rules, and made sensible choices, things would eventually feel meaningful. That life would reward him somehow for his patience and propriety, that there would be time to figure out what he truly wanted… but now, at the very end, all he felt was regret.
He had never truly lived, never risked anything meaningful... He'd never traveled beyond safe, tourist-friendly destinations, never pursued a dream that might have led to failure, never been brave enough to discover who he might have been if he'd dared to step off the well-worn path.
.
.
.
And now it was too late.
.
.
.
...Or so he thought.