Outcasts

I wanted to tell you, K, about something that happened in Prague.
There are so many Christmas markets there. Each one is more beautiful than the last one: the best one by far is the one in Stare Miesto square. Their tree has over two million lights, some say.
There Were three people looking at the tree as it went on and off as it started to shut down for the night: two older homeless men and myself. We all had the same look in our faces-that of longing and sadness and knowing the fact we are outcasts. We watched it go silent and dark and we all went our separate ways. They never saw me look at them but for a moment I saw myself in them, in their longing and their sadness and the fact we are alone.
This is the second December I spend away from my family and it is harder than I imagined. I felt as alien and alone as those men in that square.
I know my nature, to be alone. To roam these lands alone, until I die. But I curse that fact, I resent it. I envy people who can find stability and comfort and routine. 
Maybe one day it will all change. For now, let me revel in my self. Let me find the unknown.