the threads in her head

such a funny day-

We're both people who easily get emotionally attached. Missing, longing, thinking, hiding, facing, again, and again. The difference is that you let them know. I let them guess.

There's something about other people and their way of life that can be really fascinating. Sometimes the people themselves are quirky enough. But the various snippets of their family systems, revealed in words and their smiles are intriguing. My curiosity is captured, and held.

I'm just an outsider peering in. But fascinated, none the less. One of the few rare times I see one whole family, and they're acting very casually. Almost as if I'm not there, but I don't mind it, this much. A simple going home trip turns out to be so much more when the family decides to veer off the beaten path.

"Are you in a hurry to go home?"

"No, I'm not"

"Alright then, then we'll make a trip to the wheat grass farm"

The day has been amazing, even with a bad start. I felt a little inferior, but it's not a degrading unpleasant feeling, but just the sweet-bitter reminder of how insignificant and small I am, and how there are others, so much better, so much more amazing, doing so much more great things; and even then the smallest tinge of bitterness is dissolved by his friendliness. And now it seemed as though it was going to get better.

I'm a stranger riding in his family's car, an outsider peering in, and such an experience is so rare I'm trying to soak up as much as I can.

The uncle thought we were together, a family, which made me laugh. But I paid for my own drink and I took a family photo for him before we went on to the mushroom farm. And his mom asked if she could try her hands at harvesting the mushrooms, and the kind worker seeing me asked me if I would like to try too. And the outdoor classroom concept suddenly made a lot, a lot of sense. Such a beautiful beautiful day. And the great outdoors cast its spell of enchantment on me, once again.

Ghost. Not noticed, invisible. Life goes on with me watching.

We headed back to the car. It was silence, for a while, and then there was a little discussion on what they will be doing, whether he can get a ride. The family made plans while his younger brother figured out bluetooth. There was silence for a while again, but that's normal. He then tried to scare his brother with a boo, just all of a sudden. It was a, uh, failed attempt. His younger brother dismissed it with, "you think I'll be scared by that?", while I laughed at the sudden burst of cute childishness from him.

Is this going to be a start of something, I wonder. Are we going to turn out friends, or is this a hello and goodbye?

I got back to my house. It's home, and I recognised and felt it in the first nanosecond of stepping in. Then the feeling dissipated.

A soft yearning to go back, out there.