Our Words Are Stars

5. A strange beginning.

Sometimes in life we ​​travel alone. Whether it is just a trip of memories as we walk through the park near our house, or a trip to a new city... even if it is one we already knew, but the difference, is that now we go there alone.

Even though it is not all true.

Memories. The memories will always be with us.

But perhaps we can forge new ones ourselves.

Perhaps we realize things that were always there but before we did not see them; you can find something totally new that you never imagined.

I am not a religious person at all, but still I went inside the church and started to pray, which made me feel a little hypocrite, maybe because I had not prayed in a church for years, and now that I was doing it, it was just to ask for help and guidance when I need it... but anyway it's not like I've ever turned my back on my beliefs ... Only that I never needed something to give me strength, a path to follow when I'm lost...

Something to hope for.

Surprisingly, I felt that something was being satisfied within me. Kind of like when you are dying of thirst after a long walk in summer, and finally you drink water as if there were no tomorrow, and though it doesn't have taste, it feels astonishingly great and powerful. As I felt like that after praying and being silent; a silence both internal and external. I felt good. I smiled once more, because something told me that things would go well.

When I left the church, the rain continued, but it was not as strong as it was twenty minutes ago. Now I could at least walk beneath the rooftops or hurry to reach a next shelter.

It feels a bit strange (and sad) that when the weather is like this, raining, people usually thinks about coming back home, snuggling in bed or in the couch and having some tea. But I could not do that. No anymore. And yet again I felt an attack of nostalgia and emptiness.

I knew that would be quite common, I have to get used to it.

I stood under the entrance of a subway station, I sat on one of the few benches either unoccupied or not wet, and when sitting there, after taking a breath, I took the list out from my pocket and got ready to perform the first thing in it, although perhaps it was not necessary to read the list because I already knew what was that first step.

Find a place to sleep. It said, with my cursive handwriting and green ink. I felt my stomach turn inside-out. I do not know exactly why, because that could be easily solved with some hotel or motel that suits my budget. But I still felt some uncertainty. What if I got in with a serial killer? Or what if it was a hostel full of dirty, homeless people?

Here I was again, playing the victim, the scary bunny.

"Do you need help, miss? You look a little lost." A voice asks me, which makes me feel a chill. It looks a lot like the voice of my grandmother who died years ago. When I turned around, I am seeing, indeed, an old woman, but it was the opposite of my grandmother. She was short, with short gray hair and big glasses. Typical country-granny style, I thought.

"Oh, thank you, but I'm fine, I think... I just arrived in town and..." I started to say, my voice trembling. I was not lying, but I did not say the whole truth.

"First time in the village?"

"No..." No, of course not. "I just came but it was a long time ago. A lot has changed." And the memories of that last time are fuzzy. Beautiful, yes, but for some reason they hurt.

"I see, I see ... yes, things have changed, but they always do, do not you think, young lady?"

"Certainly, certainly." I didn't know what else to say.