I fall in love way too easily. I fall in love every time I’m around people. The way they talk, the way they move, the way they laugh – it’s almost as if humans were built to attract, and I was the target in mind.


I fall in love with people, not in the romantic way – although sometimes in that way, too. I fall in love the way people make friends – sometimes instantaneously, sometimes slowly, sometimes not at all. The last are the hated ones, but that story’s for another day, another mood.


I fall in love with people by the looks in their eyes. The way they unravel in front of you when you ask the right questions. The way they unravel when you ask the wrong ones. The way they’re closed up shut and yet completely transparent. The way they distinguish themselves – or not.


People are easy to read sometimes, by colours, words, gestures, faces; their moods hang on them like dew drops on leaves, or rain clouds in the sky. I love to read them, understand them, misunderstand them; because it’s all a mystery, the puzzle of another human being, the wonder of another world in their mind as vast and complicated and deep as yours. A world you can never really grasp, yet we always try.


“The eyes are the windows to the soul”, yes- but windows can be covered, and feelings hidden. Some people you can read like the back of your hand; we call that “knowing”. Others you will never understand; we have many names for that. The point is, no one ever knows just how much we don’t know about anyone, not even the people we call our family.


Places hold significance for us: some make us smile, some make us cry, some make us ponder if it’d been different if we tried, if we changed something. It’s strange, isn’t it, how such replaceable things evoke such emotions in us, but when someone asks we rarely answer with the truth.


I read a quote today: “What makes us happy are our relationships with others.”


People, people, people: rarely a place on this planet easy enough to get to devoid of them.


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