They were two of a kind. She, she was a caged animal, frozen in the same glass box for all her life, wishing, wanting, clawing for a way out, pulling at her hair in frustration at the repetitiveness of everything, at the cruelness of life for making her suffer through the same things over and over again, at her lack of ability, of freedom, to find who she was, and not who others wanted her to be. He was a lost soul, fluttering from city to town to village to countryside, then to yet another city. He was so so lonely, always the outsider, who didn't know the jokes, who didn't know the rules, the manners, the ways of living. He was always shrouded in a mist of not knowing, of clueless-ness, and of the utter desperation of not belonging.
They met on a subway to nowhere. She had been sitting in the very last seat in the furthest corner of the train, staring out into the grey skies and dead grass. He had just gotten on, and had flipped his hood up, slouching to avoid attention. The train had jerked, and both had been startled into looking up, and that was when their eyes met.
Now, looking back, they could both laugh at how cliche it sounded, that they met with just a snap of the fingers, too coincidental to have been by chance, but all the same too well planned to have been on purpose. Of course, they had broken the supposed what seemed romantic cliche, considering they were now more like siblings, but nonetheless, it was laughable.
After that jerk, that clicking moment where their gazes met, he had awkwardly shuffled to sit next to her. They said nothing, just stared out opposite windows together, his gaze on the grey skies, hers on the dead grass.
They stayed there until the subway had gotten to the very last stop, a small town in the middle of nowhere, and had to get off before they were kicked off.
Once off, they parted ways, only to meet again in a small cafe in the town in the middle of nowhere, and once more, they stared out the window together.
No words were needed for them to keep meeting in that small cafe in the town in the middle of nowhere, and eventually become friends.
_____
They always had the strangest conversations. The kind with long periods of silence that to any stranger would seem awkward, but to them was perfect. She would daydream about the wonders of the outside world, and he would tell her of the glowing cities he felt so lonely in. He would sigh about not fitting in, and she would laugh and tell him of why he should hate fitting in, and how it felt to be trapped.
Once, it had just finished raining that morning, in that town, in the middle of nowhere, when she had opened her mouth after swallowing a gulp of dull tasting hot chocolate, and said, "Let's go exploring."
He continued sipping his coffee, before answering, "Where."
"Nowhere. Anywhere. Somewhere. Just somewhere where we can pretend to be anywhere but here, and nowhere else."
He drained the rest of his drink, and pushed his chair back.
"Then come on. Let's go explore nowhere."
____
They ran down stone cobbled streets that had soft green grass peeking from between loosen stones, and between wooden houses painted cheerful colors, sad colors, and old, faded colors. They slid between alleys that were still shimmering from that morning's shower, and found shaky wooden doors that led to long forgotten rooms.
Together, she found a way out in the form of secret passageways and lost memories, and he found a way to belong, by the hand on his arm, dragging him to everywhere.
Together, they found the nowhere where they belonged.
Because here, nowhere was everywhere, anywhere was somewhere, and they could forget about all the pain and the suffering and the sad, sad, sadness, and the melancholy that chained their lives.
To them, nowhere, was home.
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