i forget that other people see you the way i see you.
he said it like he said everything else, quietly enough that it was disregarded, but loud enough that it settled in and lived within her.
everybody knows what somebody means when they say that.
it means that the way you scrunch your nose when you’re deep in thought resonates with someone else’s body. it isn’t just yours; your movements don’t begin and end with you. they move forward and affect others in waves of pain, waves of love, waves of simple movement.
she liked to believe that what she did and who she was stopped at the walls of her own body, her own life. but reality is that nothing you do, nothing you are, is ever yours alone. we want to be our own person, live our own story, but don’t you know, she said, we belong to people.
it’s not about possession. it’s just like the way you laugh has lived within someone else’s soul since the beginning of time. and there’s not a thing wrong with that.
