wandering.
It was 4am and I couldn’t sleep. It had been a night of fighting with my thoughts. Stuck between staring at the ceiling, the time on my phone, the journal tucked under my pillow. Thinking about everything. Playing it all over and over again in my mind.
I was so tired. Not just physically. Mentally, emotionally. I felt like a circus tiger trapped in a cage. I needed to escape.
The lamp post on the street below filtered through the blinds and made patterns across the ceiling. Every so often a car would drive by and it would distort - slats would disappear, colours would change, and then back to the same.
I was sleeping on a mattress on the floor in a spare room apologetically offered to me by a friend. Boxes filled up the rest of the room - memories from old apartments that there just wasn’t the space for in this new life of theirs. Next to my bed was a holdall packed with the things I’d deemed essential: passport, money, toothbrush, phone charger. No room for anything sentimental.
How the hell did I end up here?
I raided one of the boxes for a hoodie - it wasn’t being used right that second, it was cool - and went out into the hallway. My Vans lay neatly placed on the top shelf of the shoe rack. I had just kicked them off coming in from my last shift at work and had dragged myself straight to bed. I whispered a thank you to my new room mate. I promised to look after the place better, just whilst I figured everything out, and locked the front door behind me.
Four in the morning in the city was a strange place to be. It still had a brightness to it, the streets illuminated by the neon glow of the shops and offices you don’t notice in the daytime. Only the hum of the lights and the occasional taxi driving by in the distance punctured the silence. I took a deep breath. It was nice to be alone.
I wandered down the road, past the places I’d found refuge in over the past week. The coffee shop where I broke down and the barista left a slice of lemon loaf on my table after I went to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. Her name was Bethany and I will forever be grateful for that small gesture of kindness.
Two streets down was the bar where I drank too much and flirted too obviously and embarrassingly with the bartender who cut me off and hailed an Uber. Opening the door he said he saw the vultures circling, and didn’t want me to be their prey. His name was Darryl and I want to thank him forever for saving me from myself and from what might have been.
On the other side of the city centre was the ramen place where I gathered my last few friends and confessed I needed a place to stay. It had been months since I had last seen any of them, and over warm pork belly broth they listened to my story, paid my half of the bill and offered their spare rooms, couches and parents places as a temporary home. I love every single one of them with all of my heart.
I had already been placing roots on a place that was barely mine. The city was giant and time was endless and I was a speck of dust in the grand scheme it all. But I had these memories and these places that were mine, upon which I had etched the smallest of marks.
I spent another hour wandering around a deserted city, mapping out the next places I wanted to be mine. Here stands this statue in the park, where I’ll return one day and find out who it is and what it means and maybe what my place in the world means too. Here stands a greek restaurant, where I’ll return to share meze with a friend and reminisce about past lives and be thankful our fates brought us here. Here stands a bridge, where I’ll return in the early hours one summer morning with someone who wanted to wanted to watch the sunrise with me and enjoy the view.
I returned back to the apartment, careful not to wake the other occupants, and put my Vans back in their rightful place atop the shoe rack. I felt my way in the dark to the spare room and took off the hoodie and crawled back into bed.
I fell asleep instantly.
Ghosts from the past had been haunting me with threats that my future had been already been taken from me. Look at where it has lead you so far - a mattress on the floor of a spare room; a job cleaning dishes in a chinese buffet restaurant; a city where you are all alone.
You are a failure, they whispered. Abandon all hope, they cried.
But I knew that wasn’t true.
The first seven days in this new life were coloured by the kindness and love of other people. I didn’t know this city, it’s people, it’s tradition, it’s spirit.
But I could already place monuments where beautiful things had happened.
I was so tired. Not just physically. Mentally, emotionally. I felt like a circus tiger trapped in a cage. I needed to escape.
The lamp post on the street below filtered through the blinds and made patterns across the ceiling. Every so often a car would drive by and it would distort - slats would disappear, colours would change, and then back to the same.
I was sleeping on a mattress on the floor in a spare room apologetically offered to me by a friend. Boxes filled up the rest of the room - memories from old apartments that there just wasn’t the space for in this new life of theirs. Next to my bed was a holdall packed with the things I’d deemed essential: passport, money, toothbrush, phone charger. No room for anything sentimental.
How the hell did I end up here?
I raided one of the boxes for a hoodie - it wasn’t being used right that second, it was cool - and went out into the hallway. My Vans lay neatly placed on the top shelf of the shoe rack. I had just kicked them off coming in from my last shift at work and had dragged myself straight to bed. I whispered a thank you to my new room mate. I promised to look after the place better, just whilst I figured everything out, and locked the front door behind me.
Four in the morning in the city was a strange place to be. It still had a brightness to it, the streets illuminated by the neon glow of the shops and offices you don’t notice in the daytime. Only the hum of the lights and the occasional taxi driving by in the distance punctured the silence. I took a deep breath. It was nice to be alone.
I wandered down the road, past the places I’d found refuge in over the past week. The coffee shop where I broke down and the barista left a slice of lemon loaf on my table after I went to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. Her name was Bethany and I will forever be grateful for that small gesture of kindness.
Two streets down was the bar where I drank too much and flirted too obviously and embarrassingly with the bartender who cut me off and hailed an Uber. Opening the door he said he saw the vultures circling, and didn’t want me to be their prey. His name was Darryl and I want to thank him forever for saving me from myself and from what might have been.
On the other side of the city centre was the ramen place where I gathered my last few friends and confessed I needed a place to stay. It had been months since I had last seen any of them, and over warm pork belly broth they listened to my story, paid my half of the bill and offered their spare rooms, couches and parents places as a temporary home. I love every single one of them with all of my heart.
I had already been placing roots on a place that was barely mine. The city was giant and time was endless and I was a speck of dust in the grand scheme it all. But I had these memories and these places that were mine, upon which I had etched the smallest of marks.
I spent another hour wandering around a deserted city, mapping out the next places I wanted to be mine. Here stands this statue in the park, where I’ll return one day and find out who it is and what it means and maybe what my place in the world means too. Here stands a greek restaurant, where I’ll return to share meze with a friend and reminisce about past lives and be thankful our fates brought us here. Here stands a bridge, where I’ll return in the early hours one summer morning with someone who wanted to wanted to watch the sunrise with me and enjoy the view.
I returned back to the apartment, careful not to wake the other occupants, and put my Vans back in their rightful place atop the shoe rack. I felt my way in the dark to the spare room and took off the hoodie and crawled back into bed.
I fell asleep instantly.
Ghosts from the past had been haunting me with threats that my future had been already been taken from me. Look at where it has lead you so far - a mattress on the floor of a spare room; a job cleaning dishes in a chinese buffet restaurant; a city where you are all alone.
You are a failure, they whispered. Abandon all hope, they cried.
But I knew that wasn’t true.
The first seven days in this new life were coloured by the kindness and love of other people. I didn’t know this city, it’s people, it’s tradition, it’s spirit.
But I could already place monuments where beautiful things had happened.
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