what’s it called

over the past week, I’ve been bunking with a girl I didn’t really know, I don’t even know if I can say I know her now; we’ve known of each other and I knew her name, birthday, parents, siblings, and some other important facts about her life, but I didn’t really know who she was; when plans to travel back east became a viable option and the plan finally worked out some of its kinks, she offered me a key to her place to come and go as I please; my parents found this interesting and surprising; however, I didn’t; I figured I would do the same thing if there was someone I knew back in my earlier days who wanted to travel to my part of town; I arrived at her place and it felt like ‘home’; we started chatting about life: past and present and everything in between; ironically, within the first 5 minutes of being together, she inadvertently brought tears to my eyes (nope, not the good ones); we conversed about the happenings in our lives and how we have seen the same people through different eyes; the grandfather I knew and adored and admired, she saw with different eyes; the trials and tragedy experienced in our lives and the different responses to each of them; the insight she has/had of the past events in our lives; it’s been an eye opening experience; after spending a week with her doing her own thing and me doing my thing, she has taught me so much; she has taught me that trials and tragedy will enter our lives, we won’t be able to please everyone, we had to be secure in our own skin; one of the things that really struck me was this saying: the reactions of other people tell us so much more about them than it does about us; you will continue to travel along this road called life;


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