I'm not sure if what I did today was a good thing or not. Maybe it was necessary, and that doesn't necessarily equate with being good or bad. I woke up feeling tired and restless, I couldn't bring myself to stay in bed for a few extra lazy minutes. Even after I got up and fixed myself a bowl of cereal, I knew that soon I'd be getting ready to go out. Today, I couldn't stay home. I knew I had to go out - and not just for one of my usual walks around the neighbourhood block, but rather, one that would have me venture far outside my comfort zone. I'm not going to lie and say that I didn't regret it almost immediately - as soon as I started getting close to the city downtown, and I saw just how many tourists were out and about, I felt the urge to get back on the subway back home. But I relented, and just trudged on. I considered quite a few options about where to go to, and narrowed it down to two. One would see me take the long way home, and the other would have probably have left me feeling distraught. I picked the first, and walked to the sound of music towards where I worked at some twenty-odd years ago. Then upwards, always going up the hills of this city, until at last I reached a garden where I sat down to rest my feet. I had decided to break in a new pair of shoes today, and that choice might not have been entirely wise. After a short rest there, I kept on walking, knowing full well where I'd end up. Again, I opted for the longer route there, traversing some side streets that kept me out of the way of the frequent throngs of tourists and passers by. By the time I was close to where I knew I'd end up, my feet were killing me and I had to sit down again. I looked around and then I realized I had sat on the same spot years before. Me and my girlfriend of the time - I won't name her here but I have written about her - went to the movies one evening, and the movie - something French - was long and finished late. After the movie ended, me and her ended up going for a walk at night and we found ourselves on top of the park where I now sat, and we had sex behind some bushes straight in front of me. I got up, after feeling rested enough, and went to yet another garden.
After I got there - my feet still killing me - I had to sit down once more. It was then I realized for the millionth time just how much I hate living in this city. I don't really, of course I don't, and I never will, but I do. And that's because there's no part of this city that doesn't bring some sort of memory back to the forefront of my mind. I've tried to leave this city so many times before, and I always end up returning. Maybe I've not have the maturity necessary to weather whatever storms I face, and I always choose the safe option - coming back. But increasingly... I feel like I want to leave again. This city... I love it. I hate it. I feel so alone here. Alone with memories. Alone. And I don't know just how much more I can take it.
No comments:
Post a Comment