There is an instant where you wanna cry. You want to scream. You want to yell from the bottom of your stomach and soul. And this is when you know you love or have loved somebody. When you look at someone. You see into their eyes. And you know. They are you. They are exactly who you are or were. And you love them you want nothing but to hold them. You want to shout in a carnal and cathartic agony until you feel that sense fulfilled. That sense that you have seen yourself. And can finally let go of yourself.
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Someone is talking. Off-handedly they throw out an anecdote, a distant friend somewhere in some time. You get a glimpse, a mere snapshot, of a person. Suddenly you are struck with a single point; that person exists. They are so much beyond this image. This person was before this interjected and rough-fit recollection. They were after it as well. It feels odd to you, almost voyeuristic; unbeknownst to this unknown man you have known him personally. But it’s not negative, at least, that’s not the sense you get. It’s uniting. You bask in the idea that the ways one person can relate to others stretches beyond what they can do or perhaps even perceive. This ability goes through people, and into rooms so far away, geographically, chronologically. People can be so distant even entirely unknown to each other, but still relate. There is nothing to witness besides the awe-inspiring power of the connection between people, moreover the grand scale that this force can assume. Knowing this, as perhaps I know it, you reach out your hand to me and introduce yourself.