text: The rusty metal chair grinds noisily against the damp concrete as I take a much-needed seat. The outdoor patio of my favorite café is busy and bustling right now as it’s lunch hour. I drop my belongings onto the glass table before reaching into my oversized hoodie pocket, pulling out a pair of earphones, and sticking them into my ears. The lofi-beat begins to play as the anxiety in my chest begins to dull. The world is muted by more sound. Beside me, a woman types frantically into her computer. Her face is stern, and her attire makes me believe she’s having a lunch break despite not actually taking a break. Across the street, a group of men work on a streetlight. One drinks out of a metal thermos casually whilst another leans against the wall, watching the other two men work. A car horn can be heard above my music, drawing my eyes towards an angry man yelling at a young girl who was nearly hit by the rushing taxi driver. The world around me is vivid and alive. Yet, I am not. In this strange world where I know no one, everybody moves. There’s no sleeping, no stopping, just movement. People don‘t have time for one another, and they’ve grown accustomed to living that way. Once again, however, I sit here alone. I feel like I’m in an impenetrable bubble that no one attempts to pop. The closest I’ve been to a real conversation was with the barista over what type of coffee I wanted. Even then, the interaction was meaningless. Her day kept moving- as did mine. In this world, there are billions of little worlds. Every person I’ve passed today has a life I’ll never know of, just as they will never know of mine. They are the center of their own universe, and I am the center of mine. But I sit here just the same, waiting for one of their worlds to merge with mine. I turn down the volume of my music to listen to the world around me. Cars drive by busily, honking at one another occasionally. A man chatters loudly on his phone about a meeting behind me. At another table, a group of teen girls laugh and chatter about some event they won’t remember 10 years from now. People pass me by. Each from their own walks of life. A homeless man rides by on a bicycle. A businessman carries a shiny black suitcase. A woman in a bright red jacket laughs with a woman who looks like she’d rather be anywhere but next to her loud friend. A young boy watches the ground as he hugs his laptop closely to his chest. Pigeons line the powerlines and streetlights. Taxis blend together in one hue of yellow. The world moves. Yet, I sit here motionless. A cold wind blows from the North, reminding me of the upcoming winter. The world is to be cold and grey once again, and I’m afraid that with the snow piles and thick coats, the world will become even more reclusive to me. Leaning back into my seat, I begin to admire the measly maple tree resting near the side of the street. Its leaves have been painted an array of oranges and reds to match the Autumn scene before me. It blows gently in the wind, causing stray leaves to float gently to the ground. The tree stands solitarily in this concrete jungle. It’s the only sign of actual vegetation for blocks. It reminds me of me in a way. It’s the center of its own universe. It lives for itself, and though it’s alone and feels lonely, it can comfort itself. When the weight of this world gets heavy, that tree just releases its problems into the wind. I wish I could do that. I wish I had the ability to easily let go. The clouds overhead all look the same. Endless masses of ashy grey, hinting, but never expelling a drop of rain. A quiet contentment washes over me in that moment, looking up at that dark, yet bright sky overhead. It was the first time in this noisy city, that I felt a bit peace. “Is this seat taken?” Asks a woman loudly enough for me to hear her over my music. My contentment is disrupted as I shake my head. “Thank you,” she mumbles quietly before taking the seat across from me. I sit up awkwardly, wondering if I should leave before she speaks again. “My name is Lacy by the way,” she says as she sets her belonging onto the table. Her eyes never meet mine, and she tries to hide the frantic note in her voice as she introduces herself to me. “I’m Peter,” I say, holding out a hand. She smiles and firmly shakes it before pulling open a laptop. Just as quickly as our friendly interaction began, it ended. She went back into her own universe, and I went back into my own. If I had any more courage, I’d ask her for her number. Maybe we could become friends. She seems nice, I doubt she’d reject me. But, the more I look at her, the more I see. She already has a life, and I will add no value to her world. As she types frantically at her laptop and writes notes in her leather journal, she doesn’t need me. As I sit here, taking sips of my nearly cold coffee, I don’t need her either. I’ve realized that people are only asteroids. We pass by one another’s worlds, watching each other carefully. We wonder if we should interact. We wonder if we should meet. We wonder if we should step into each other’s lives. But we quickly decide that most things are more appealing at a distance, and we become too afraid to merge worlds. Maybe this is for the best. When an asteroid and a planet collide, both gets hurt- if not destroyed. So maybe, being a lonely asteroid in this void of space is a good thing. Maybe it’s why we feel lonely. All we want is that planet, yet, we float away, never to see the place we once loved ever again. But in the end, we realize it’s for the best. I gulp nervously as I glance up at Lacy. She wears a casual sweater with a button up underneath it. Her hair is in a bun and she continues to type frantically. “What are you writing?” I ask, wondering if I’m being too invasive. She glances up, wide eyed, “A thesis for this English assignment I’m doing.” “Ah, good luck,” I say with an awkward nod. She smiles, “thank you.” She goes back to typing, and I go back to watching the world. Minutes pass before she sighs deeply and shuts her laptop. “How old are you?” She asks, startling me. “21, you?” “20. Where are you from?” “A world I wish I could go back to. You?” “Same.” She responds, shaking her head. “I thought this world would be for me. I don’t think it is.” “Me neither” I respond, watching her eyes glaze over with the same emotion I’ve felt for the past year. “Do... do you ever feel like in this place, you’re completely alone? Like you have no one to talk to but you’re constantly surrounded by people to talk to?” She asks. “I know exactly how that feels,” I respond as she nods enthusiastically, looking just as relieved as me that there’s someone out there who understands. “I feel so confined. I know I’m free, and I know I can go anywhere and do anything, but I feel so trapped. This place borders me in like a caged tiger and all I want is to be anywhere but here. I know nobody and nobody knows me. Being who I am, I thought I’d like that but... It’s incredibly lonely you know?” “It’s like you’re part of a world that isn’t yours.” I say, sitting up. “Exactly! And then-“ before she could say anything else, her phone rings. She lifts a finger, telling me one minute. I nod and lean back into my seat as she answers with a bright greeting. Her face falls suddenly, and I watch with curiosity as the brightness in her eyes becomes a darkness. She hangs up quickly, grabs her belongings and stands up. “I’m sorry, I got to go, but it was lovely meeting you. Goodbye,” she says as panic crosses every feature on her body. “Goodbye Lacy,” I say as she weakly attempts to smile one last time. Then, as swiftly as the asteroid entered my solar system, it was too distracted by the stars beyond me to collide with my world. She left, and about thirty minutes later, as did I. The tree however, stood there. Watching the world with a contentedness I could only dream of in this city that never sleeps.