It was time to start over. A new city, a new school, and a new life. He was ready. It had been long time coming. He needed a new start. It would be good for him.
If he could just get over his fear. His fear of change and new things. His fear of leaving behind the things he found comfortable for things that were new and foreign. These things weren't the only things he feared though. He also feared being forgotten.
It was easy in his small town to be known for something. You were the quarterback or the head cheerleader or the lead in the play. You always had a title. In a big city, you were just another face with another story that the people you passed might never know. In his town you grew up with the same people from preschool to high school graduation. It wasn't like that when he moved, no one took time to get to know each other. It seemed like no one cared.
But that wasn't it. Because people cared and he saw it all the time. Small acts that would go unnoticed unless you were looking closely. And he was looking. He needed to look. Because he wasn't sure he'd make it if he never saw the small acts of good. He just wasn't sure.
Maybe that's what made him such a good listener. Maybe that's why he would always be willing to sit with a homeless person and hear their story or listen to an old man talk on the subway. He wanted to be sure of something in his life and he thought that listening would help that. That it would make it easier to believe there was good in the world. But he realized that wasn't really the case at all. If anything it amplified the bad.
It seemed like people only wanted to talk about the bad things going on in their life. Especially with strangers. Because it's easier to talk about things that hurt or scare you with strangers than with people you know. If strangers judge you, it's one thing, if someone you love judges you it can destroy you.
That's what made the city feel so safe to him. There were thousands of strangers merely coexisting in the same space, but that could at some point become connected because of a simple "hello." That was a comforting thought for him.
He may never take advantage of his anonymity. But it was nice to know that it was there. If he were to ever need it. Sometimes it did make him feel scared. Like no one cared. But he knew that just wasn't true. He'd SEEN that it wasn't true.
So, that's why he liked the city so much. Every was politely coexisting in each others stories and occasionally, when the time was right, two stories would cross at just the right time and it was like no other feeling. To be able to see this, to be a part of this amazing thing that happens, well he couldn't think of a better place to live.
He was finally happy. And free. And nothing was going to make him change his mind.
(This is a story of fiction born out of my want to go to a city and get lost in it's amazingness.)
If he could just get over his fear. His fear of change and new things. His fear of leaving behind the things he found comfortable for things that were new and foreign. These things weren't the only things he feared though. He also feared being forgotten.
It was easy in his small town to be known for something. You were the quarterback or the head cheerleader or the lead in the play. You always had a title. In a big city, you were just another face with another story that the people you passed might never know. In his town you grew up with the same people from preschool to high school graduation. It wasn't like that when he moved, no one took time to get to know each other. It seemed like no one cared.
But that wasn't it. Because people cared and he saw it all the time. Small acts that would go unnoticed unless you were looking closely. And he was looking. He needed to look. Because he wasn't sure he'd make it if he never saw the small acts of good. He just wasn't sure.
Maybe that's what made him such a good listener. Maybe that's why he would always be willing to sit with a homeless person and hear their story or listen to an old man talk on the subway. He wanted to be sure of something in his life and he thought that listening would help that. That it would make it easier to believe there was good in the world. But he realized that wasn't really the case at all. If anything it amplified the bad.
It seemed like people only wanted to talk about the bad things going on in their life. Especially with strangers. Because it's easier to talk about things that hurt or scare you with strangers than with people you know. If strangers judge you, it's one thing, if someone you love judges you it can destroy you.
That's what made the city feel so safe to him. There were thousands of strangers merely coexisting in the same space, but that could at some point become connected because of a simple "hello." That was a comforting thought for him.
He may never take advantage of his anonymity. But it was nice to know that it was there. If he were to ever need it. Sometimes it did make him feel scared. Like no one cared. But he knew that just wasn't true. He'd SEEN that it wasn't true.
So, that's why he liked the city so much. Every was politely coexisting in each others stories and occasionally, when the time was right, two stories would cross at just the right time and it was like no other feeling. To be able to see this, to be a part of this amazing thing that happens, well he couldn't think of a better place to live.
He was finally happy. And free. And nothing was going to make him change his mind.
(This is a story of fiction born out of my want to go to a city and get lost in it's amazingness.)
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