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Thursday, January 27, 2011

My two minute stranger.

Some time ago, a long time-in-playgrounds-and-pigtails ago, Mom told me to never hide behind feelings, to never give anybody the upper hand of my heart, the heart on my sleeve.


She told me with her (old wrinkly) voice that I shouldn't hide the truth from anyone - because when you meet your best friend, your first friendship, you'll be the one afraid yet brave despite the current emotions making your knees weak. And you'll want them to see you as a person. Not a shadow.


Her mother told her to be straight forward. And that's what she did. She told her first (will you be my friend?) best friend and she told her first (will you be mine?) boyfriend.


They might've rejected her, forgot about her, threw her to the pavement with mean smirks, or opened their arms to a life time of happiness. She didn't dare look back after that. Fight now, cry later.


But then she met someone like her. Someone who understood her positive forwardness. Someone who liked that she was brave and small and boiled with anger everyday when the sun is at its highest.

I'm so afraid to show I care. Will he think I'm weak, if I tremble when I speak? 


Someone who took her hand instead of vice versa and someone who said (I'm me, and I want to know you) Hello. She said (I've been looking for you everywhere) Hi. He smiled his bright smile and couldn't help sending him one of her own. 


Throwing away everything she learnt, she pulled him into her arms and said with an inner emotion that could not explain in words, I'm afraid. But I love you. Can I take you home with me even though I'm a stranger? I won't forget you if you walk away. Yet I won't be mad because people are sane and I'm unrealistic. 


Can you live with an unrealistic person with their heart in your hand?






She remembered before her head started spinning from the sound of his touch and the feel of his whispered thoughts. 




I wouldn't like it any other way. Because you're my unrealistic two minute stranger. 

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