A Letter to My Small Town

To the one I have never noticed until recently,

Small town with big-city dreams--that is what you are, that is what you'll always be. But that is what we all thought.

And then you went ahead. Wanting to be more than just a stepping stone, more than just a temporary place, easily replaced. More than just childhood memories and See-You-Laters turning into Goodbyes turning into promises and pinky swears long forgotten. You went ahead and became a town, carried its own weight--sometimes with carelessness, sometimes with grace.

You've changed so much. I guess we both did. In some ways, we grew up together. But you've done so many things to yourself and for yourself that I barely even recognize you despite tiptoeing on the side of your rib cages every single day. And I feel like a small girl with big dreams still stretching themselves into galaxies I could never fit inside my pockets. A small girl from a small town, still wondering if I grew enough to see beyond all your towers, enough to still find all your corners you refused to let others modify, all the traces of past mistakes and glories you still keep preserved into utter imperfection.

You have known me for so long. Witnessed how I put my hard-earned feathers on wings imitating the colours of the sunrise. Seen every dream being constructed from dust. Danced to every beat of my heart.

And I would like to think I have known you too.

There are days when I can remember the names and the faces of your every bone, your every vein, your every cell. But there are also days when I feel like you will always remain a stranger to me, looming in the background, strong and wrapped up in mystery.

I'll be leaving you one day. The inevitability of that haunts me and gives me hope. I will be leaving and you won't be able to stop me. But I pray you keep this truth somewhere in you:

Each and every dream of mine started in you.

Each and every dream of mine started with you.

And somehow, each and every dream of mine started because of you.