Have you ever felt that pieces of your life are falling into their place. One by one, somehow they squeeze right where they are supposed to be, without your effort or even knowledge. That is how I feel now. I am standing on a small hill overlooking the city I have lived all my life in. This is where I was born, where I grew up playing with my friends; where I kissed my first girlfriend. Right there, in front of me, is the city that shaped me into the person I am now, and yet, for the very first time I feel I don’t belong here any more. My backpack seats heavily on my shoulders, but somehow it is not weighing me down, but quite the opposite, it pushes me to move, urges me not to look back any more but rather to face the path in front of me.
I don’t see that path yet, not clearly anyway, but at the same time, I walked away from my past. Somewhere between those two worlds, I found peace. No knowing where I am going brought a strange, beautiful feeling of wonder. Knowing what I have left behind brought relief.
Life is new again.
I turned around, clearing my thoughts of anything else but the sound of my own shoes pushing the path underneath away, as if somehow I pushed the entire planet, making it spin faster so that whatever is on the other side would come to me faster. I wasn’t going anywhere, the world was coming to me. I barely felt the effort of walking, I did not feel the weight of my backpack at all. I was a butterfly, roaming the night, defying all the rules and re-writing anything that has ever been written about what’s right or wrong. For the first time ever, I was my own person. I only had myself to answer to, and only stars above to talk to.
Moon rose a bit higher to shed some light on the road in front of me, but I didn’t need light, my feet knew exactly where to go. I walked as fast as I could, bound only by the length of my legs and their inability to stretch harder than laws of physics allowed. I wasn’t searching for anything, I wasn’t going anywhere specific, I didn’t set out to do anything. I was just enjoying my freedom. Just being was enough for me. Just breathing was exciting enough. I was soaking in every sound, every little trace of smell the night would give me; every shape my eyes managed to recognize. I knew that the morning would be here soon, and I wanted to make the best of the time I still had.