How Lost You Wouldn't Feel

I feel a rush of sentimentality coming on, but I can't help it.

I'm sort of listening in to a couple of girls having a conversation, funny how other people's lives can be unknowingly observed, speculated upon, sympathized with, how often just hearing an exchange or seeing a gesture can turn my own existence into a fluttery, emotional mess.

And I think I've been listening to people a lot today. At lunch. At work. Even when nothing is going on in my life, there are a million thoughts being exchanged, revelations being made, relationships being broken or mended, thousands of, for a lack of a better word, I have to use film's reference to "beats" and, I guess continuing what I started, climaxes, denouements, turning points and resolutions revolving and falling into place, little wheel cogs, little metal gears that I imagine would fall to a concrete floor with a shower of ringing clinks, tiny tiny gears.

See what I mean?

The first girl is sitting with her friend, explaining to her a breakup with her boyfriend. As she talks, her voice falls into a slight tremor at times, like she's holding back more than she can let out. She has taken the tea bag out of her mug and is sifting through its contents, laying out little piles of different herbs and what look like smooth round seeds. She doesn't look at her friend, but is intensely focused on her hands' idle work.

Her friend sits close to her, her eyes never leaving her face, as if she's trying to see past her eyes into what I suppose is HER. Who can tell, really?
There is definitely love there. Good to see that.
And also so amazing, like a synapse popping into alignment, how familiar, deja vu into another life. Makes me wonder if there are these connections with everyone, between everyone. Maybe just that I have turned my head in just that same way as the man in the plaid shirt in the corner, placed my hand on my forehead, exhaled. I feel it's likely.

While I'm thinking about it, who else has drank out of this mug? In a glamorized way, it's a touchstone, connecting trailing strands of existence. But isn't it nice to glamorize. Why not make everything a little more beautiful, a little more bright, even if you may be a fool for it?

What if everyone, for a moment, could pay attention when you say, Hello? and answer in a reverberating chorus, Yes.