He said every person is a universe. When two people meet, they are exploring one another’s intimate spaces, their individual stories, fears, dreams, inspirations and uncertainties. Whether the two continue this exploration is up to them. Once one of them leaves, however, they are strangers again, bereft of the memories they created or where going to create, bereft of the bond they shared or could have shared, bereft of the words they exchanged or the stories they would write together. They become another passerby on a street corner who is walking the dog or stopping at a deli to buy a newspaper and a cup of coffee. They become the stranger who is disconnected, who moves farther and farther away until he becomes a faded memory, or perhaps completely forgotten.
New York is a disconnected city of beautiful strangers. Every discovery, every encounter, every exploration of another person’s universe is a magical journey. Yet every connection is a risk, for many decide to leave the city. Some simply walk away without warning; others betray your trust and leave a gaping hole in your open heart. The sidewalks are like the gates in an airport; you bump into someone who can share the same destination with you, travel within your personal universe, take flight with you in your sorrows and your riveting pleasures.
New York is a city of drifters, of hopeless romantics, of dreamers, artists, dancers, poets, writers and musicians. Many of them can’t make or keep promises. Most love the adventure, the thrill of discovering another person like them. They like the risk of opening their hearts, their unpublished books, their unfinished compositions, their unwritten songs. They like the pain even when it’s over, for it gives their existence meaning; it gives them a reason to revert to old habits- the smoking after their morning coffee, after the unfinished lunch meal, after drinking from the bottle of whiskey they keep hidden. And they go on breaking hearts because they give up on love and because they believe no one is going to keep a promise, or maybe because it’s just easier to be mistrusting.
Every person is a universe of secrets; be careful whose secrets you unravel.