This is A story of a Boy

I walk in the city, full of people, crowded and strange. The street is so busy, but I am feeling weird standing on the ground while people pass through me. I’ve been alone living in this foreign land. Almost a year already, and I don’t understand why I am even here. Living alone is not easy. Having the thought that it yes, it means freedom, but it scares me sometimes that all I have is my self. Especially, that I have no friends here. Actually, I have two or more that I consider as friends, but it is hard to trust them as of the moment. Trust is not an easy thing to give. And after all these years, I have learn my lesson pretty well. I’m missing home big time. I feel like I don’t belong here.