A few years back a job opportunity brought me to the city. The opportunity required me to make a few trades but I needed the money. I didn't think much of it at first but with time, the wounds inflicted by these trades began to leave scars.
I traded grass for asphalt. Mountains for buildings. Bare feet for leather oxfords. Friends for forced smiles and half-waves. Freedom for long hours in the office.
The reality was I had traded happiness for money.
Each day the same gloom. The same damp, grey skies, rain, and cold glances. The same puppet reflected in my bathroom mirror every morning. The same dreaded walk to work and eventually, the same painful retreat to my flat.
I came to the city wanting more but when I leave, if I leave, I will leave as much less.