You were once my epiphany

I sit here, expecting nothing. Nothing, thats all my life has been really. But now you have arrived, and you are a weary traveler. You come from someplace distant, I'm sure of it. The ocean? No, that couldn't be true, you don't smell like salt. Perhaps Europe? Tanzania? Jamaica? The Amper River? Antartica? It doesn't Matter. Forget how weary you are, or how far you've come. Forget the miles your feet have carried you, the things you escape from, the people you've known and the society you grew up in. I need someone to tell my story to...