What does "fighting the urge to cup the faces of random New Yorkers" mean? My first year out of college, living in New York City, I was hungry to find my calling. I didn’t like my job. I missed my friends and the security of college. I felt purposeless. I felt unable to make a difference. Mostly I felt alone — afraid to disconnect, to put down the phone at night, because then I would have to really be alone. Fighting the urge to cup the faces of random New Yorkers and ask them if they felt the same numb pain, I started to write letters instead.