I love strangers.
I love being just this whirlwind of a person. In and out of a person’s life. Touching them in some way. Anyway. As long as they remember me.
There’s never this searching for the right thing to say or avoiding this topic or that. There is nothing wrong or right to say. It is living utterly fearless of other people. You never have to worry about the feelings you may or may not have for them. The past never comes up, because there is no past there to elicit. There’s just this unbelievably huge, undisclosed future for which you are currently unqualified to consider. And you are forced to live in the moment.
And doesn’t that feel great? No future plans. No past sorrows and let downs. Just right here, right now. I can’t get mad at you. You don’t know me.
And when it’s over, you just walk away. It’s over. Nobody has to say or do anything. Nothing has to be politically correct. No strategic planning needs to be involved. It’s just over. You never have to see them again.
And when you do it that way and keep it that way, it’s never complicated. You can rest assured, everyone who wants to rekindle the past will remember it. But you never have to worry about what they are thinking about it now. You only have the brief time to relive anyway–but you won’t, you’re in another moment with another person already. And if you did your job and you touched their life–even made it perfect and maybe beautiful for that brief time or moment you shared–they will always think of you fondly.
I think this is how all encounters begin. The hard part is finding the exit. And, in that case, I think I may have just described love.
t0nya
