Nothing like a familiar face
I recently read Chocolat, a book where the main character has spent a lot of her childhook and part of her adulthood moving from place to palce in a very gypsy like lifestyle. She's talking to someone who has spent her whole life in one tiny town, someone who is jealous of her for having lived so much and seen so much.
And she thinks to herself, "But when you see so much, you realize that all the faces are the same."
It's not quite that cold hearted, but it's true in a sense. It's not that I see the same faces everywhere I go, but that I'm constantly looking in other faces for glimpses of those I've left behind.
I followed Kris down the street for four blocks, thinking of all the ways he could have possibly gotten into the country before he turned around and it wasn't him.
I caught a glimpse of Shani crossing the street when I was in the bus, and almost got off the bus to see if it could, maybe, be her.
I thought I saw Linette when I was in Paris, and actually had to bite my tongue to keep from calling out to her. But for a moment, that hope fluttered so deeply in my chest.
It's strange. I'm not lonely here, not anymore. I've gotten involved in quite a few things, met people I genuinely like, and have gotten back to work. But it's that shared history you have with people, the in-jokes that you remember, those are the things I miss right now. And when I catch a familiar face, or a profile I remember, or hear a voice that sounds oddly familiar, it squeezes at my heart.