It’s a cycle: I find myself in a city, either again or for the first time, open to new possibilities and new encounters, and I inevitably cross paths with someone new. The new smile, the new laugh, the new gaze ensnare me—the solitary wanderer—and occupy my thoughts more than I’d care to allow. I’m a writer, after all, and I obsess. I invest more than they do in our connection, because they know the story—I’m too temporary to be taken seriously. All too soon, I’m off again, a comet streaking through the void, brightening the sky for a brief moment in one place before moving on to the next, those whose space I illuminated moving on as well, without me.
But sometimes, the voyager yearns for company, for more than just a fling. For a sustainable connection with a like-minded individual, who can fly with me long enough for the smile, the laugh, and the gaze to become familiar.
For a little while, at least.
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