When the Soul Grows a Room

What is it that makes us like someone or not? Fall in love? Get along? I often hear people say it takes time, the time to get to know each other as well as common interests. Sounds reasonable. But then…

Last night I dreamed of Kate. In my dream I came back to her Upper Manhattan apartment and she no longer was the single young woman I had met only months ago. At her side was this gorgeous man who clearly was very in love with her and seemed very protective. Happiness flooded over me, happiness for her. And when we hugged I whispered in her ear how glad I was to see that she had finally found Mr. Right.

In my dream her small apartment had grown a room.
And I didn’t even find this fact surreal when I woke.

During the day the movie my sleeping mind had invented was my companion.
And with it thoughts of Kate.

I remembered how we had been sitting in her tiny kitchen, how she had fed me sushi and red wine while the sounds of New York City had wafted in on the tender warm breeze of night air that had prompted the flames of the candles to dance. How we, two complete strangers, had told the stories of our lives in naked truth, shared the tale of broken hearts and secret longings. How we had bonded and wrapped in a closeness I haven’t shared with many people in my life.

I was reminded of how often I think about her since then, how often I wish she will find the one who will love her as deeply as she deserves and longs for. How often my thoughts dance around her inner beauty that so clearly shines in her eyes that I can’t understand one minute that no one seems to have seen it so far.

And then I remembered the night I had left New York City. How I had been sitting on that plane, speeding down the runway, watching the Manhattan skyline sparkle while I had thought of Kate and love, about how somehow so much distance can still not keep us from those we care for, about all the complicated reasons that made me not want to leave, and how I had started to cry and couldn’t stop until we were well out over the dark Atlantic.

Those memories are like a metaphor for the patterns of life, for the strange fact how some people can get under our skin though we only spent so little time with them and yet know them with our soul. Like one long look in the eye can be enough to catch us forever. Just like it took less than an evening and Kate had found a way to my heart. Just like this.

Obviously it’s not about where we come from or if we are of the same age. It’s irrelevant if our lives are different or so much alike. It doesn’t draw a distinction which amount of time we spend together.

It’s about what we are able and willing to give.

One moment can change your life, one look into someone’s eyes.
Trust doesn’t need time to build, neither love.

It’s a decision we take in less than the blink of an eye.
And all that matters is if we are willing to let our soul grow one more room.

If we feel we can say I love all of you without holding back.


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