My People

It took me almost 20 years to realize that the only way to heal your heart is to ask people to mend it.
Today I turned off my engine and got out of the car at the parking near the Uni, where I have just come after my work. I took one ChocoPie from the boot (I am a recent fan of those desserts and have a big pack of them in the car). Then I went to the guy who was sitting on the fence (we have those small green fences everywhere). He was eating something and I just decided to make a company - for myself mostly.
I did have plans for the evening - to meet a friend of my bro, but we did not decide this properly and he did not contact me yesterday, so I thought 'whatever' and went home. My boyfriend went to play MTG. My bro works late somewhere everyday since last week. So, I tried to play my evening differently today. And it was worth it.
I remember how at the age of 15 I started writing one marvellous novel (never finished it, of course) about the family travelling around the island (which was the only land they knew). That was the time when I put 'talk to different people' in my list of goals (yup, I was making lists since... birth?). I wanted to experience stuff through their stories (it's much cheaper and much broader - different from your perception anyway). Now I begin to talk to people, really. Last week I had a little conversation with a guy who took away some misplaced ads for movies at the cinema in the nearest mall. Well, all that just means that whatever goal I set for myself, eventually I come to the point when I subconsciously start achieving it.
And today was much better than ever. Today's guy gave me some of his pickled pattipans (which he got out of the jar with a knife - for me, and with a pen - for himself). 'Cause he told me that my ChocoPies are no good, he told me that as a doctor. I accepted his gifts and - with a smile on my face (I should practice that more) - ate with my dirty (very dirty after the metro) hands. Yeah, and happy I was. He kind of told me his story. He is a great guy, a travelling-type, just like Martin (a good friend of mine from France). Today's guy (we never asked each other's names) travelled around the Europe without money (nah~) with just a backpack and a thumb up high in the air (that's my euphemism for hitch-hiking). I envy guys, who can just put themselves in such a danger and stop showering for a while (that's a res mortalis for a girl).
Maybe he was just a guy, who loved to talk about himself, maybe I was a good listener, but we had a good talk together. After we parted I had one of those happiness attacks, when you can't breath properly because of the positive emotions inside. That's certainly a good thing as I smiled a few times on my way home. I hope that guy thought about me with a smile as well.
May our roads cross again, I will be glad to see him (screw grammar in the name of poetry).
I won't tell you his story - you've got to have your own precious talks to remember. I just want to say that I start to embrace the world, seeking the cure for my shattered soul (a.k.a. screwed-up mind).