If you fell in love with someone, would you move to another part of the country if it was what they wanted?
If the love was strong enough, and I had the resources and ability to move, then absolutely. There are 8 billion people in this world, but I don’t want to pass up someone great only to search through an endless ocean of average, boring people.
Very true, but you will have to go off of hasty generalizations. I may or may not know you, this is something you will have to figure out. I am elated that you had a nice evening. With any luck, tomorrow will be the same. How is the weather over there where you are? It has been raining over here, but it isn't anything terrible.
Alright, stranger. How about a hint. Hypothetically speaking, we can assume that you at least partially know of me, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. Now, the real question, and I hope you’d kindly answer: have we met in person IRL?
Why thank you, sir. I'm grateful of that. Maybe one day I won't post anonymous, though I fear that will kill the fun in this.
How has your evening been? Anything exciting happen, other than stealing my lovely grandmother's plant stand?
Maybe. I understand the fun in anonymity, and I respect that. However, for all I know, perhaps you’re some lovely girl, and we could fall in looooove. :D
Lots of exciting things have been happening, but with no knowledge of who you are, I’m not sure I have a realistic reference point as to how long I’ve known you, when I last saw you, and what all has happened since that time to constitute “new and exciting”.
That being said, my evening’s been quite lovely so far.
As I lay here, listening to the air get hammered by cheap speakers with equally terrible music, I think to myself for but a moment. The synapses fire in a momentary dazzling display of thought. At least, as much as I’m capable of giving about anything at the moment.
Actually, there are a million things going through my head right now.
Laying here, on the couch that cradles me, I have to keep these things going, going, going in my head all the time. A juxtapose of jumbled thoughts.
Things are tense, and I can feel it from everyone. I don’t pretend to be some kind of superhuman. I just always try my hardest, and I happen to love doing a wide range of things. It certainly is a great avenue for sharpening my skills.
But I’m so tired. So lonely. So hungry. Little snags on random things remind me of how human I really am. Even though nothing is fundamentally wrong with any of my work, I still have those struggles with hoping that I can be good enough. I sacrifice a lot to try and keep all the gears going. I do love my job, don’t get me wrong. I just worry.
I worry that I’m not good enough. It’s what I’ve been told my entire life. It’s what I tell myself every time I look into the beautiful face of a friend or a stranger. It’s the only thing I know sometimes, and overcoming that hurt is sometimes too much for me.
Do you ever feel like you’re stuck in a situation with someone, where you really really like them, but you’re so hilariously clueless about what to do that you really don’t know what steps to even take, if any?
I, for one, have. This is rather a hallmark of the constructs of being me. Strung together by minutae, you find all these great little things about a person. You realize, for once, that you don’t feel bad about being yourself. You don’t feel embarrassed to be yourself, if anything, you find new reasons to revel in your similarities. You are reminded that you are not, in fact, a stranger in a strange land. And though your world may now be upside-down, their world is as well.
You find a new energy to celebrate the very phenomenon of existing. Your spirits feel higher than they have been in a considerably long time. And regardless of the outcome of your interactions, you feel more than happy to at least know this person, and call them friend.
Because for once, in the strangest and least likely of connections, you feel like you actually connect and belong. Your heart beats harder, just being around them. Your brain pumps out endorphins by the metric ton, and you feel genuinely content with what originally felt like a directionless and empty existence.
But will the neurotic feelings set in? Will you be trapped, foiled again by the same typical problems that have held you back so many times before? Will the obvious obstacles keep you from saying what you want to say, and pouring your heart out?
When the obvious tries to beat you into the ground, will you raise a fist and fight like an animal, or will you sit back and take it like a man of virtue? You’re no thief or swindler of hearts. It’s because you have a heart and understand that you realize that you should not force anything.
Or are you just misreading everything, a poor product of a faulty understanding of basic human interactions?