There's this Hozier song called Someone New that perfectly describes what's happening in my brain when I'm out and about and watch people pass by. I fall in love with every single one of them, the way they walk or talk or brush their hair out of their face. I fall in love with the way they smile or frown or sip their coffee or get excited over that 10cents they just found. I fall in love with every little thing I see strangers do, and I start to imagine what would happen if I'd just spoke to them, introduced myself and said "You made me smile. Thanks." I don't. Obviously. I'm too shy, too sure they'd think I'm weird, too scared of talking to people I don't know.
But they made me smile. They made me fall in love with them, even though all I've seen was a snippet, a snapshot of a tiny second of their existance. I've fallen in love with more strangers than the number of friends I have, which isn't because of my small number of friends, but because I fall in love so easily. Weirdly, I only do with strangers. I've never been in love with someone I actually know. Maybe because I do know them. Maybe it's harder to fall in love with people you know because you know them so well, you know their every quality, each one of their mistakes, every thing they do that annoys you. Maybe it's just easier for me to fall in love with ideas than with people, with stories instead of humans.
I love big cities because every time I'm in one of them I get to fall in love with somebody every few seconds. I start to spin my stories around them, moments we'd have together if we spoke to each other, laughter, crying, I imagine bumping into them at the bookstore or at a café, if we'd like each other or not, I make strings out of my words and put the people into cocoons made from these words. I spin and spin and spin the thread around them until they're fully covered and maybe possibly evolve into something bigger. A friendship, maybe a thought that goes into a piece of writing, a snipped of a moment that makes me laugh, and maybe possibly something even larger. Maybe possibly they become a whole story. And so I fall in love just a little ol' little bit every day with someone new.
But they made me smile. They made me fall in love with them, even though all I've seen was a snippet, a snapshot of a tiny second of their existance. I've fallen in love with more strangers than the number of friends I have, which isn't because of my small number of friends, but because I fall in love so easily. Weirdly, I only do with strangers. I've never been in love with someone I actually know. Maybe because I do know them. Maybe it's harder to fall in love with people you know because you know them so well, you know their every quality, each one of their mistakes, every thing they do that annoys you. Maybe it's just easier for me to fall in love with ideas than with people, with stories instead of humans.
I love big cities because every time I'm in one of them I get to fall in love with somebody every few seconds. I start to spin my stories around them, moments we'd have together if we spoke to each other, laughter, crying, I imagine bumping into them at the bookstore or at a café, if we'd like each other or not, I make strings out of my words and put the people into cocoons made from these words. I spin and spin and spin the thread around them until they're fully covered and maybe possibly evolve into something bigger. A friendship, maybe a thought that goes into a piece of writing, a snipped of a moment that makes me laugh, and maybe possibly something even larger. Maybe possibly they become a whole story. And so I fall in love just a little ol' little bit every day with someone new. 
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