"I am large. I contain multitudes." - Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

Friday, December 17, 2010

Glimpses

"Do you ever feel that way?"

"Lonely?"

I search for the words. "Restless. As if you haven’t really met yourself yet. As if you’d passed yourself once in the fog, and your heart leapt - “Ah! There I Am! I’ve been missing that piece!” But it happens too fast, and then that part of you disappears into the fog again. And you spend the rest of your days looking for it."

He nods, and I think he’s appeasing me. I feel stupid of having said it. It’s sentimental and true, and I’ve revealed a part of myself I shouldn’t have.

"Do you know what I think?" Kartik says at last.

"What?"

"Sometimes, I think you can glimpse it in another."

~ Libba Bray from her book "The Sweet Far Thing"


(Photo credit: Justin Beck)

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