Let’s Call her Air — Temporarily, Maybe.

You know of the inspirational posts on social media about airy personalities?
They sound so poetic and wordy. Everyone knows that when you are reposting, that’s a statement you are trying to make about only yourself and no one else. “Acknowledge me, for I am exotic”…?

I’d like to recount to you about a girl who fits these poems perfectly.

I met the girl eons ago who felt like the epitome of Wind, Air, and maybe even Poetry. Not only to me, but everyone she came in touch with. I should know because I followed her around and gazed upon her as if there was no other in the room. There was something about the way she looked at you.

Her gaze was hypnotic. A hint of a smirk always at the tip of falling over.
Her hair naturally unruly, much like the spirit which flew globally.
Her body like a goddess who walked on earth.
Her mind juggled ten worlds colliding all at once at multiple speeds during every waking hour.
Her soul danced with yours to the sound of ethereal music.

She was a butterfly. She fluttered so naturally and so gracefully.
I continuously use past tense to describe her because, much like a butterfly, metamorphosis was in her nature.

— We’ll call her Air for the sake of simplicity.

She must’ve metamorphosed a thousand times over in the time that has passed since I last knew her. Each time, undoubtedly, a different and fuller form of beauty washed over her.

Why am I always talking about these beautiful personalities that slipped right through my hands? Some undoing due to my own planned doing…
Because every time I experience an emotional detachment from a personality I idealized and worshipped, I am dragged forward/backward to reality in a way which cannot be explained in the few words I have set aside for this paragraph. That makes it the perfect retrospect, if I may say so myself.

Back to talking about Air.
One day I called her and there was no answer.
That’s okay. Life happens.
I called her again the next day. No answer.
That’s okay. Life is hectic. I leave a cute voicemail like the cute person that I think I am.
Many voicemails and breezy conversations after, I realized what was happening.

There was a metamorphosis happening in the life of my favorite butterfly and I was getting in the way. I wiped away my tears and never looked back.


This was pretty poetic and wordy too, eh? Late night thoughts eat away at my sleep and I just hoped to share some of my thoughts with you tonight.
Remember to always set your birds and butterflies free…


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