My City |
| by Buster |
I once lived in a city. It was a strong, safe city. It had high walls around it built in earlier times to fend off frequent attackers. The walls were strong ones and I maintained them in order to keep myself safe from hurtful things. I can't say I felt safe in my strong city but it was as close as I could get.
But I was alone in my city. My city had become a prison for me. The same walls which I had built to keep out pain had also kept out good things. The things that make life worth living. While I was relatively safe in my city, I was besieged in a prison of my own making. Yet I continued maintenance on my walls. I chose the safety of a prison rather than face the dangers that lay on the outside.
Even after there were no more attacks, no more attackers, I kept up my city's walls. Then one day I heard of another city. A traveler from another city had gained my trust and I gave her admittance to my city. It was the first real company I had had in a very long time. Time after time my traveler friend returned. I soon began to lose interest in my walls. It's amazing how fast they fell when I forgot about them. I don't know if my traveler friend thought it strange to find the walls around my city coming down. I myself did not notice. I enjoyed her company so much that my walls did not even cross my mind.
I wondered what sort of city it was that my traveler friend hailed from. It was then that I realized that my walls had come completely down. They were beyond repair and I did not wish to build them up again. So I left my once strong city and set out to find that other city from where my traveler friend had come. The place where I for some reason had begun to believe I could be safe and yet not alone.
It was not a long journey. I soon reached the city I was looking for. I don't know what I expected to see when I reached that city. But what a sinking feeling I had when I stood before the city and found it surrounded by high walls probably as strong and solid as mine had been. I could not get in.
I can not go back, for the old city cannot ever be home again. So I wander outside the other city. I still talk to my traveler friend and I try to glean from the things she says a picture of what the city must be like. But how I long to be in that city. To have the walls open their gates for me. To have a city to be at home in once more.
And hopefully to be better off than I was before. I know what I left behind and I do not miss it nor do I feel the least bit of longing to return. So I wait on the outside of this other city praying that some day I can win admittance.
I fear I may have to wait forever.
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