The Echo of Eccentricity

Falling in love again wasn't something I had planned. But then again, when is it ever a planned phenomenon? I've found myself asking, pondering whether it is really something in our control or not — sometimes it seems as if we subconsciously make that decision to go ahead and pursue that sensation, and yet sometimes I wonder if we ever really have a choice. If falling out of love was viable, then why not falling in love again?

I recall an age where I had compiled a list of requirements that with every year increasingly edging further into the teen years, grew and grew. He had to be funny, he had to be artistic, he should sing, he should be sporty, he should have abs, he should be smart, he should be kind, he should have a great smile or if not a smile, one that you could feel...and on it went, with extensive requirements that got more complicated and complex.

I'm not really sure if I ever actively sought out a candidate to fill all these requirements. Whatever happened just happened. But over time as I fell, flew, hurt, and got up again, I soon realized that everything that I wanted in my true love was everything I myself had become.

And now these days my heart is doing that little double-time skip, the corners of my mouth that little uplift of a secretive smile.

The Clasp of Cherishment

Sometimes one of the best sources of solace is simply letting go of all one's tension in the arms of a warm, strong, solid hug. It was something I had counted on through the last several years, even just psychologically if not physically.

These days I realize that I've become a bestower of hugs. It's not something I ever associated with myself; keeping my physicality aloof from those around me and reserved for a select few on special occasions and definitely for a special someone. But in the latest metamorphosis of the person I thought I was, I've become someone who gives hugs daily, to a number of people, often.

I've seen the way a hug lights up a lonely face with joy as I wrap my arms around a confused and lost soul. I've felt the unspoken compassion that's shared daily in a hug of habit, in mere hellos and goodbyes. The kindness that's elicited through a contact where warmth transfers and redistributes so that both parties share a moment of sameness.

There are so many times when every muscle and pore of me longs for a certain hug, but I've realized in finding myself that sometimes it's a profound kind of magic to simply give them.