The Answer to a Different Question

There are days when the world feels big. And you wake up and breathe in, and don’t feel small. You feel just as substantial as the whole universe. And when you go out on the streets, you feel the sun and smell the air, and see the leaves for the first time. And you realize that there’s so much more. And feel happy. And for the first time, it’s the kind of happiness that can’t be taken away.

Today was like that. I was taking German, I had finally found a job, I was becoming a person who enjoys running. Everything felt right. Except for the fact that the night before I had fallen asleep crying because I had realized that I was still in love with you.

Or maybe not with you.

You get over people, but you never get over memories. That’s why I will always love the you I had met in Prague. How could I not? You showed me freedom, love, and stillness. You made me feel fearless, if only for a while. Maybe you turned out to be somebody different, somebody, who is still searching for happiness and purpose himself. Maybe you never were the answer. But you made me think. You made me live.

Four days is not enough to discover each other’s hidden demons. For all I know, the dent in your chest where I would rest my head would become uncomfortable after a while. And maybe I would someday get sick of your Rexona deodorant. And maybe you would become a person who would blow the tobacco smoke in my face by accident.

But whatever it was that I hadn’t minded, but might have minded, hadn’t noticed, but should have – it doesn’t matter. Because you were not the answer. But thanks to you, I had found the question.

So when I was standing there in the morning, staring out of the window, I felt happy. Because it was raining, but I wasn’t cold. Because I had been awake all night, but I wasn’t tired. Because you weren’t here, but parts of you were. The parts I actually wanted to keep.

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