The city of firsts

That is the thing about this city… I hate it so much, yet I can’t leave. Of course, I could if I wanted to, but no matter how much I try, I just cannot do so. There is a lot I would be leaving behind and I don’t think that’s fair. No, I’ve got no kids, no job, no family here but I have memories and I think that’s important enough. 

This city- let’s call it C- was the first I ever explored when I came to this country. Was it 5 or 6 years ago now? I fail to remember. I had come for holidays and had instantly fallen in love, thinking at the time that it had everything I never knew I wanted. The calmness- it seemed like a ghost city, with barely anyone out, which now that I think about it, must have been due to the fact that I hadn’t been looking in the right places. The beautiful landscape; there was never a time I’d step outside and not take pictures because of how beautiful everything always was.

 Winter really felt like winter, with the brown of old buildings vividly coming out against the white snow. Starbucks coffee, in mostly everyone’s hands, and at night the smell of food that emanated from cosy-looking crowded restaurants, filling almost every street. In spring and subsequently summer the city became another. Trees that had been devoid of leaves months before, would blossom and compete with one another to reach the sky, while birds sang happily. And in autumn, my favourite season, everything died once again. I used to love hearing the sound of boots stepping on dried orange and yellow leaves and watching the sky which throughout all seasons is perhaps the only thing that stayed consistent. But now those are all the things I abhor about C. 

~~~

Today is another typical day in this mundane life of mine, in this city, I hate so much. I lost my job a couple of weeks ago. I say weeks but it is really months. I graduated three years ago and now I am unemployed and living at Emma’s place. I would call her a friend, but she isn’t for diverse reasons. Firstly, because we have more of a complementary relationship than anything else. And secondly, because I don’t have friends. I like saying that; it makes me feel special. But, I mean to say I no longer have friends… here. They’ve all moved on with their lives and left me to slowly decay in C. 

My phone vibrates in the pocket of my coat and I take it out to see that Emma sent me a message. She’s wondering if I finished with my meeting and will be coming home soon. A tired sigh escapes my lips, while I look up from where I am standing. I regret it instantly. Around me, people are walking around, all looking busy and part of something big, while I am standing there, out of place and invisible. There is no way, I will tell her the recruiter I was meeting cancelled after realising I wasn’t at all who they were looking for. So, I put back my phone in my pocket and begin walking. It’s not like I wanted that job in particular. I just needed a job in C so I don’t have to relocate. 

After about 10 minutes of walking, I find the nearest bench and sit down. My phone has been vibrating in my pocket but I have no desire to take it out. I’m either going to see that Emma has messaged me, another company has refused to hire me or my mom is asking me how it’s all going. I finally end up taking it out after another vibration. And surely, there is another message from Emma asking me if I’ve gone grocery shopping and my mom asking how the interview went. But the last message is from a company I know very well. They want to know if I’ve made my decision and still want to come work for them. In another world, I would have said yes a thousand times. But not in this one. They are based in another city and it would mean relocating but I just cannot leave C. 

~~~

C was also the first city in which I lived alone for the first time. The first city in which I made friends that were not from my home country. The city in which I went to university. The city in which I had my first job, and volunteered for a first, then second and third time. A city of firsts. The thing is, I am persuaded that I secretly love C. And I know I had said I hate it at first, but you should have seen that coming. To not want to leave a city I know I need to leave, I must have some complex emotions in relation to it. Hate simply cannot cut it. Love won’t. I have to love and hate it at the same time. My friends used to call me a walking paradox. I guess I am. 

It’s now been 23 days since my last interview and since I internally decided I would not be accepting the job in that other city. I am going to find something in C. I know it. But in the meantime, my days consist of babysitting the kids when Emma goes to work, doing cash in hands jobs such as cleaning, and living spectacularly below my means. Everyone in my life thinks I am wasting it, but they just don’t get it. They just don’t get what it means for me to relocate, to start all over again. 

I am currently lying down in bed, researching jobs. I did not sleep yesterday night because I was working and I spent the whole day looking after the kids so all I need is some sleep. However, life never works out the way we want it and I hear a soft knock on my door. Before I’ve said anything, Emma comes in smiling sheepishly. She’s honestly so beautiful with her child-like face and toned body, and next to her I always look so basic. 

— Do you want anything? I ask, furrowing my brows while she sits on the edge of my bed.

— I wanted to talk to you about something. Her voice is barely audible, I notice while adopting a sitting position. 

— Yes? I then ask. Emma is not the type to act so carefully. She is always cheerful and loves talking. 

— The kids are asleep… in case you’re wondering, she says again and now I am persuaded there’s something wrong. 

— That’s kind of obvious. 

She laughs but it doesn’t sound sincere. 

— Ok, Em what’s wrong? 

My question forces her to look up at me and I can see that her lips are trembling. 

— Listen, I’ve been offered a promotion.

— That’s fantastic news, I answer not understanding why she doesn’t look too happy. 

— Yes… I guess. But it is in another city and - she starts but I have to interrupt her. I know where this is going. 

— What about the kids? 

— They’re going to stay with my parents while I go there to sort the accommodation. I’ll come back to get them. 

— What about this place? 

— That’s the problem. Rent has been paid up until the end of the month which is when I will be leaving but after that, I can’t continue with the payments. I am happy to let you stay here and will give you my landlord's contact number but… She stops there and suddenly everything makes sense. I’ve been nicely kicked out and I have nowhere else to go. I could go back to my hometown but that is such a stupid thought to have. 

— Em… 

— I am so sorry Renée. It was all so sudden… and I couldn’t refuse. I have to think about my future you know, she says but I don’t bother answering. I have nothing to say. I am still so shocked by all of this. But she’s right, she has to think about herself first. 

— I spoke to your mother and she told me about your job offer. Why haven’t you accepted it yet? 

Not her too. 

— Because I am not taking it. I answer, picking up my phone. I don’t want to continue this conversation anymore. 

— What do you mean? She asked and I meet her eyes. They move between different expressions before they go back to normal again.

— I am not taking it. It’s in another city and I am not ready to leave. 

— You could commute.

— I have thought about it and the city is too far to do so. The only option would be to relocate. 

— So… she asks carefully, why don’t you do it? 

— Have you been listening to me? I ask slowly feeling my anger rise. I can’t leave.

— And why is that? What are you scared of? What are you holding on to here that you can’t leave? 

— Stuff, I scream stubbornly. She wouldn’t understand. C changed my life. 

— I cannot believe it. You’re content doing what you’re doing now, while you could be doing so much more. 

Doing so much more. I hate hearing those words. What do they know in all honesty? Yesterday, my mom told me the same thing. She thinks I am scared of relocating because I am scared of change. Truth is, she knows nothing about change and fears. She, herself has never left the city her grandparents were born in, as well as her parents. The same city in which she grew up and then raised my siblings and me. So what does she really know? Nothing? This city has done so much more for me, than she ever did so of course I don’t want to leave.

~~~

Day 45. There are only three days left before Emma and the kids leave. And in the last 20 days so much has happened I don’t even know where to start. First, that night, shortly after Emma left my room I received a call from a cleaning agency that wanted me to clean the whole night. I accepted and went to work. That night in between crying because of how exhausted I was and thinking about what to do, I decided to call the company the next day and let them know I was accepting the job. I had nothing to lose anymore after all, except for C. And when I got back and gave them a call, they told me it was too late and they had already chosen someone else. If I had opened the email they had sent me I would have seen that was the last chance they were giving me to accept. I don’t know why but I felt relieved. First, because I still believed I could get a job here in C, and also because I really didn’t want to relocate. If only I had known. 

Now 22 days later, I am spiraling. I no longer have money on me, which means I can’t rent Emma’s house. I have no prospects and I still have no job offer. Only refusals and they pile up with each passing day. This morning I made a list of pros and cons as to whether relocating would be the thing to do and I ended up tearing the paper halfway through because I could only list the pros. What pains me the most is I have realised that a bit too late.

I said earlier on that I have a complimentary relationship with Emma. Well, today is one of those days where I have to hold up my end of the bargain. And honestly, I prefer that to the alternative which would have been to go grocery shopping for the house. I used to enjoy walking around but not anymore. There are just so many people that know me and it is almost like everywhere I go, there is someone I must avoid (of course, I have to avoid them, they always want to know what I am up to and I hate that. And honestly that is one of the number one reasons why it is primordial for me to leave this city).

So rather than that, I am sitting on the sofa checking my emails and silently praying for a miracle. The kids are both sitting on the floor, Reggie with his toys and Erlynne with her food. All of a sudden the living room is filled with screams and I stand up immediately, my heart beating like crazy. 

— What happened? I half-scream while lifting Erlynne from the floor.  

— I don’t know, Reggie answers back before he starts running around in the room. 

— Will you stop running around, I ask, but him being his 2-year-old self, he doesn’t listen to me. 

— I can’t. I’m too busy being a super-hero, he answers still running and knocking over multiple objects in his vicinity. 

I am wondering about how to stop him before he makes a bigger mess, while simultaneously attempting to calm Erlynne when I see it. Erlynne’s spoon in his hands. He must have taken it from her. Annoyed, I walk up to him and take it back, and almost immediately, he too begins screaming. 

It has now been almost five minutes and wow, they won’t just shut up. I hate my life, my decisions, and most importantly this city. And if I say I am interested in calming any of them, I am lying. I am so tired to even care, so while Erlynne cries, her spoon now in her hands, I take out wipes and start cleaning her up. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to let an 8 months old baby eat her food. And now she is trying to take the wipes from my hands and when I refuse to let her do so, she screams even more than I thought possible and throws her spoon before burying her face all over my chest. Fantastic, now, I too have baby food all over my clothes. There is no way I am carrying a child nine months if that’s all babies do. Thank God I am not planning on getting pregnant anytime soon. 

— Please Erlynne, stop crying, I whisper in a soothing tone trying to calm her, while under my feet Reggie who has taken back the spoon is running around, screaming once again. The screams, the screams, the screams. I really can’t do it anymore. 

~~~

Finally, I was able to calm them both but the living room now looks like a dump. And guess who is going to clean it all up? C will surely be the death of me. I place the baby in her chair and let myself fall to the floor, tears threatening to fall. Reggie shoots me a dubious look before he goes back to whatever he was doing. I don’t have the strength to pretend anymore and just let the tears fall. Where did I go wrong? My phone in my pocket vibrates signalling a notification. I take it out, expecting yet another rejection email. But that’s not what I see. The subject is enough to make my heart beat faster. I can’t believe it… Did I get a job? I hastily open the email and here is it. An acceptance offer for a job I remember applying to weeks ago. I had done it without really believing they would take me. Then it downs on me, it is in another city. I am finally leaving. I look up and observe the living room filled with pictures of Emma and her kids. Sure I am welcomed here but it’s not my place. It is time I stop living in the past.

~~~~~

3 days later.

I am going to miss my train if I don’t walk faster. Behind Emma is following me. Her kids are currently with her mother and she too is travelling tonight. She didn’t have to accompany me, as I’m guessing she still has a lot to do, but she insisted. And for the first time, I think maybe she is someone I can call a friend. I check the board and see I am supposed to go to Platform 1. We keep on walking trying to avoid bumping into as many people as possible. We finally reach the gates and I take my ticket out before looking at her. 

— You’ll come to visit, she asks while pulling me in for a hug. 

— Of course, I answer. I really want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. 

— What are friends for? She asks, squeezing me for the last time before letting me go. I plan to take a break at a point, so I’ll come to visit you with the kids. 

Not able to say anything I smile at her. The last thing I want to do is cry. An announcement fills up the whole station informing me that my train will be departing soon and suddenly my senses are on high alert. I say bye to her and hug her for the last time before I cross the gates. 

Finally, I am leaving C, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to really leave it. It will always be a part of me. And that’s the thing about this city. It sticks with you. And it doesn’t matter how much everything becomes so familiar that you want to escape, it stays this place where you know you can always feel at home. It will always and forever stay my first and when life in the city I am going to gets hectic and overwhelming, I know C will always be there to calm me.