return

"i'm going to be all alone in New York", he said. Preparing for his move to the big apple, Matt was kind of nervous and excited about going to grad school. "I know it sounds exciting and all, but I know what I'm gonna do, i'm mostly just gonna stay in my room and read. I'm gonna be all isolated". Sam nodded, giving him a sympathetic expression. It was one of those non commital expressions that to Matt meant that Sam understood. In reality, Sam didn't know if Matt was just being naive, or fooling himself. No one goes to a big city for the first time when they are 23 and stays alone. Definitely not fresh out of college. Matt was going to change. He was going to experience the crazed rush of people, the shaken cosmopolitan awkwardness that comes with a constant invasion of personal space, the frustration of being surrounded by humans and the claustrophobia caused by millions desperately fighting for every bit of unoccupied space. Sam loved the idea, as brutal as it sounded. He had grown up in a city much like NY. He loved the 'in your face' ritual that people in cities like New York were accustomed to. The kind of feeling that makes you feel intense relief when you go home and get a moment to yourself. He felt stagnant in a typical American city.

Which is not to say Sam didn't feel like Matt could be alone in the city. Of course it was possible to be alone. Sam knew what it was like. Sam knew how it felt to be surrounded by people and noises and smells and sounds and still feel isolated. He wondered if it was only he who felt this way. Nah, too self absorbed, he thought dismissively. I'm just like everyone else. Average, not unique. A thought that was as comforting as it was depressing. Yet Sam didn't really feel similar to everyone else. He kept trying to surround himself with the people he considered his own, the people with whom he felt most comfortable. The ones around which he didn't have to put on an accent with. That accent that made his jaw hurt and still didn't sound right. The ones with whom he could be himself. Still, sometimes it felt like he was just trying to hold on. Hold on more and more to the edge of a cliff that was crumbling away. Soon there would be nothing but a chasm. And a chasm wouldn't be too bad. Not too bad at all.

He was getting sick of flesh. Clumsy, clumsy flesh. Flesh with its blushes and pimples and erections and hunger and thirsts and wants and needs. All these people, all of them, all they did was talk to his flesh. They didn't talk to him. All they saw, all they even needed to see was the tangible. They didn't care abt anything else. 'Whats wrong with me?', he thought. No one thinks this way. No one? Or was that self absorbed too? New York was great. At least I can be all alone, surrounded by people, no one looking at me, a rush of beings giving me a warm blanket of anonymity...another random person from a random place doing random things. Just another soul in a city full of souls. And when I did need contact...theres always someone around. Yes, NY would be perfect...till it wore him down.

"You know Matt....i'm really gonna miss you", Sam said, in that way only he could. The way he could say the most true, deep, heartfelt thing to someone without flinching twice. He felt a lump in his throat. His heart felt like it was going to melt. He felt a rush of intense love and sadness at the same time. It scared him, his ability to feel so strongly. Matt looked at him intently for a moment. Then, he smirked in a sympathetic, understanding way. Sam knew then, exactly how Matt felt. He'd done the same thing just a few moments before.

-sam i am