Stories Of Strangers

Lately, when I’ve been in busy public places, I’ve been thinking about all the people I see and what their lives are like. I know there’s a game you can play where you come up with people’s life stories, and you try and outdo your friends by making everyone drug dealers, or prostitutes, but I don’t mean it like that. I mean I’ve been looking at them and wondering what their life is legitimately like. 

We pass so many random people, especially in a city like Sydney or Melbourne, and most of the time don’t think twice about them. These last few weeks, I’ve been pondering whether they have a best friend, or  whether their group is fighting. Whether they have a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or whether they’ve just had their heart broken. What their last facebook status was, how many facebook friends they have. What their favourite subject is. Which contact they text the most. I know it sounds kind of creepy when I type it out like that, but for some reason it only just hit me that everyone I pass has a life. I’ve always kind of lived in this self centered bubble where my life matters, but everyone else is just there. Extras in the movie of my life: you see them, but they don’t have a story. Then I finally realised that, hey, they all have a life too, and suddenly I’m fascinated. 

Everyone I see in a day has a room in a house that they can call their own. I pass them on the street, or in the supermarket, or at the movies and I might spend a split second critiquing their appearance or listening to their conversation, but then as quickly as I noticed them – if I noticed them at all – I’ve forgotten everything about them. In that moment which revolves around them, I would never assume they had a Zefron shrine in the back corner of their room, or that their wall contains mounted versions of all the Harry Potter wands, or that they still have all their stuffed toys on their bed. I would also never contemplate whether they cry themselves to sleep, or whether they sometimes squeal with excitement, even if their in a public place. The thought of them having a favourite food, or movie, or holiday location, doesn’t even enter my brain. They occupy my entire mind for a whole moment, and yet I will never know anything about them. 

In a way, this makes me sad. Everyday we must see all these amazing people and not realise it. People who will one day do amazing things. People who are currently doing amazing things. People who are just brilliant in every way. People who could be our best friends, or our soul-mates. I do believe, though, that if you’re meant to know someone, they will find a way into your life. I have friends who after months of friendship, we discovered that we were once at the same party or event. My parents have friends now that they went to school with forty years ago and lost all contact with, only to grow up and have kids on the same football team, or in the same class, in a location hundreds and hundreds of kilometres from their shared hometowns. 
While I don’t necessarily believe in the idea of one single soul-mate for everyone (although it is an awfully lovely idea), I do believe there are a certain number of people out there that we are destined to know. That no matter what happens, they will find a way into our lives and make us better people for it. Maybe today we might accidentally bump into them at a fast food store, but in ten years time they could be our closest confidante. We stand behind them today in a line for a ride at a theme park, but end up working at the same desk years in the future.

So while people may pass me on the street and not realise that I know all the words to every song by the Jonas Brothers and Taylor Swift, that I refuse to eat anything that comes from a pig, that I run a blog, or that my three closest friends and I call ourselves ‘The Marauders’, from now on I’ll be trying to work out their life story and hoping that if it’s super interesting, that one day I’ll be able to hear the real version from them myself. 

frangipani princess xoxo

One thought on “Stories Of Strangers

  1. I always imagine people's life stories. I always thought it was a sign of my overpowering curiosity or sticky beakness whichever you prefer :PNow at least I'm not the only person to do this.

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