Some people naturally know how to approach everyone. Others shy away thinking they're being polite. It doesn't matter much in the grand scheme of things, only when the extrovert wants some alone time and the introvert is tired of being invisible.
My eyes sting a little because I should be asleep but I want to linger and write and pretend I'm writing to someone who will reply. I find myself delving into memories, looking through past stories as if I were looking for a specific place to visit, or hide in. Funny. The combination of the October rains and a specific playlist, smell of clothes fresh out of the laundry into the suitcase, is an immediate ticket there. I try to recall why certain stories affect me more than most and I always end up marvelling at the greatest force in the world; chance. What were the odds, really, that all those elements could fit together in front of my eyes at that time in my life? It's a thing that happens and yet, it's almost like magic, the way influence works. Of course, back then it was torture. Who could have known I'd be looking at it with such nostalgia? Maybe it just proves that one's experiences are defined by one's interpretations. Words and actions can mean different things for different people. Think of the combinations... again, what are the odds.
It must me one of those mental journeys, I feel as though I'm walking somewhere, led by a hunch while pretending I don't know where I'm going. It's all quite peaceful. I don't really need for anyone to walk with me, though none would be unwelcome. I wish it for everyone, this feeling of being caught in a moment of clarity without a need for words. As if... you've looked up to see the most beautiful sunset and feeling relief you don't have to struggle to find the words to describe it to someone.
Maybe this is a letter. If so then it must be one you'd throw into the wind without counting on ever receiving an answer. Oh well... your mind probably holds all the answers anyway.