Arrested Feelings

I slept on the couch last night. I felt like a visitor to my own life.

The coin spun thrice in the air before it landed on the cold marble floor. Even so, it continued spinning, displaying unnecessary theatrics as I held my breath waiting for it to decide for me. My head prayed it was tails and my heart prayed it was heads while my stomach and lungs prayed the coin would just stop spinning. It slowed down and I lowered my face so that my eyes were an inch away from the coin, a million thoughts passing through my head.

Do you know what the word xeno means? I chanced upon it once, a long time ago, I don’t even know what language it belongs to. It was explained to me as the smallest measurable unit of human connection. How beautiful it is that someone made a word for that. Moments that are fleeting and random, yet enchanting. Isn’t this a strange thought? That the people we’re walking right past are people that we could have real connections with. What happens if you just keep walking past people? How do we forgive ourselves for all the people we leave behind, all the people we don’t allow to affect us?

Cosmic collisions are uncertain, we find each other on accident, there is no meant to be. You don’t choose the tides, yet your heart chooses who you call. But then again, for something that single handedly keeps the body alive, the heart’s a pretty stupid organ, don’t you think? It continues to hold on while the head is letting go. It holds on to this person so eager to learn about the strange, dusty and awkward answers I offer so earnestly  as I mumble in my sleep about my inspirations and ambitions and insecurities. I bare my soul in staccato rhythm and he listens to all my disconnected stories.

There’s so much lost in between thought and action, half my feelings are just consumed in themselves in time. Yet, people underestimate how erotic it is to be understood, how divine it is to have someone respond with a passion you seek on utterly random chronicles. It’s exciting when you find parts of yourself in someone else. And at the end of the day, it’s always words that undress you.

Not everything is meant to last, but sometimes, just sometimes, you find someone who loves like you do. And it’s worth the fleeting moments. I ignore the coin and pick up my phone.

Xeno is a strong thing.

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One thought on “Arrested Feelings”

  1. There is an angst that shines through your words, a promise of something I could fall madly in love with or loose my sanity because of. You could undress me with words.

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