I have had the repeated experience (as of late) of seeing people in a crowd or meeting them personally and having already known who they were. It’s that moment of recognition of a person whom you’ve never met but who you know from the stories of others. They are the people acquainted with the ones you love. And it’s always positive. These are the people that take center stage in reminiscent memories told in cars on late nights or from pillow tops on early mornings. And these stories almost always end with ‘I love her/him/them.’
It’s only strange to me to think that I know of these strong or intimate feelings that someone else holds for this stranger and I can pass by them knowing so much of them and I am only a face in a crowd. How many people do you suppose know of you and about you and you are oblivious? How foreign but enjoyable it is to think that there might be someone out there who knows more about someone else’s love of me than I know myself. Hmmmm…. Thoughts.