Cities are mermaids in the sea of humanity. They call to us. They sing songs of such joy, beauty and prosperity that we fall in love with the idea of who we would become should we inhabit them. They are beacons of light in pristine darkness seen by all of us as we make our way. Their light is what we long for because we then realize who we are, each other’s mirrors. We show them the best and worst of themselves but hide behind our own silver lining. We make it seem that our lives are brilliant and free from the imperfections that plague others. But that is never the case. We all have our flaws; some grow with time; others we inherit; a few are born out of love and suffering. Over time they become our ruins weighing down on our future and all its wondrous possibilities. We must choose then to demolish them and rebuild ourselves or coexist with a sterile stillness. I am making my home on these ruins of hope. And know enough to say that this is not where forever lives nor where my family may be but where I am kindest with myself, the people I love and the ones who stay.
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