It's almost indescribable how I felt when the bus approached the city. It was already amazing driving along the freeway, watching all the other cars roar by, all those other people going to and fro, and it struck me that none of them would ever have known about my small town or the people in it. My existence was unknown, all my memories, my feelings, my hopes and dreams and fears were nothing to these people and it made me feel strange inside. Did I matter? I knew that I existed. I could feel myself and the world around me. I could smell the stale air of the bus. I could hear the people breathing and talking around me. I could feel the rumbling of the vehicle as it carried me to the city, and yet I felt separate from it all, as if I was but an observer, and I wasn't sure where I really fit in. But at the same time it was all kind of wonderful because I tingled with excitement at the thought of starting a new life. Nobody knew me, and that was fine because I craft myself a new identity. I could show people who I really am. I felt like all my life I had been a caterpillar and I was finally emerging from a chrysalis and becoming the butterfly I always knew I could be.
I sat forward in my seat as I saw the kilometers disappear in front of my eyes. My face was glued to the window as we drove past power stations and lakes and wide-open fields. I thought of all the possibilities as we slalomed through a collection of shops and restaurants outside of the city. It looked like something out of a pop-up book. Back home we only had some small stores so seeing the brands that I'd heard so much about was like being in Disneyworld. It was like I was seeing the world for the first time.
But then I saw the first signs of the city appear over the horizon. The view was faded at first and hazy, like a mirage or some sort of dream, and at first I could only make out the tallest skyscrapers as they tried to touch the heavens. As I grew closer my eyes grew wider as they stretched higher and higher, seeming to grow before my eyes, and I was reminded of the story of the tower of Babel, where ancient humans had all collaborated to build a tower that reached up through the sky and threatened the boundaries of heaven, so God, in his infinite wisdom, destroyed it and made us speak different languages so that we couldn't work together and rebuild the tower.
It was stories like that that made me question people's devotion to the almighty. And when I saw the city it was resplendent, and I knew that God hadn't done this, we had.
People back home had always spoken of the evil and ugliness of modern culture and how it twisted and corrupted the youth of today. But seeing the city I just didn't see that. It looked beautiful in my eyes. On that particular day the sun was shining and the daggers of golden light gleamed against the glass windows.
Our speed slowed as we crossed the threshold of the city as we were caught up in the throng of people making their way into the same place. It gave me a good opportunity to look at my new home. Instead of square houses, there were buildings of all shapes and sizes with colorful signs and flashing lights, vying for attention. I didn't know where to look first. My eyes darted about, trying to take it all in but it was all so overwhelming. On the sidewalk there were street artists and performers, expressing themselves so freely. That would never have been allowed back home. I squealed with glee as I watched a man do acrobatic tricks. The other people traveling with me didn't seem to notice. I guess they were all jaded and had seen this kind of thing ten thousand times before, but it was all new to me and I loved it.
After the stores I looked at all the different people and wondered where did they all come from? At home we had been one homogeneous mass with no ethnic diversity at all. Now before me there were people of all different colors and sizes and I wanted to know all their stories. The world was a big place. I'd always known that but it took entering the city to fully be aware of it, and to really have a grasp of what it meant. I could imagine never seeing any of those faces again and yet they were a part of my life now, woven into the tapestry of my existence. Yet none of them would ever know it, completely oblivious to my watchful eyes.
That's when I saw her. I could barely believe my eyes and I wanted to shout to the driver to stop but I was caught in such a state of shock that we were gone before I had a chance to do anything other than impotently slam my palm against the window. I twisted my head and looked for as long as I could. It had to be her, surely, but I couldn't quite believe it, not after all the time that had passed, that it was actually Ivy.
Chapter 3
I'd only caught a glimpse of her so I couldn't be entirely sure, and of course the chances were slim that we'd actually encounter each other after all this time, so my natural inclination was to assume that I had been mistaken and that there was no way it could actually have been her. But just because the chances were slim it didn't mean that they didn't exist at all, and this played on my mind as I made my way to my new apartment. Instead of looking at everything around me I was plunged into the past, to my faraway memories, consumed by thoughts of Ivy. I realized that I hadn't thought of her for a long time, which was strange because there was a time when I didn't think I would eve stop thinking about her. She had been my first crush and the more I thought about her the more convinced I was that I had really just seen her. I'm not sure if I believe in fate but I do think there are certain currents that can sweep people up, and carry them to the same destination.