wandering in search of something to name

I've stopped buying coffee at the shop; the staff all know me now and I don't want to be a regular, a friendly face.  It's stigmata, in a city, when we all move here to be alone. But I find myself prowling the streets looking for her, for him. Alone, with each other, with other people. I'm living my life waiting for a frisson sparking from their secret lives they think no one has noticed.

I think my family is worried.