Mea Culpa - An admission of guilt (?)

(The fifteenth of January reminds me of one person.)

Even for a fleeting moment when another living soul touches your own soul devoid of any physical tangibility, then you are touched for eternity. When this befalls, a little girl blossoms, and a woman is created in the process. Am I speaking of falling in love? Ha! No, that would launch a premature World War III. Nevertheless, this is not aconfession too callow such as having a crush, but rather, Mea Culpa for being very fond of someone who my mind could complexly learn from and weave with in mental convergence. (Ah… Convergence may be too “assuming” a word when once in a bright April Sunday in a café, he talked of profound philosophy books and I spoke of… err… Nicholas Sparks! *blush*)

However, the enigmatic beauty of making such a connection with someone is the fact that one may experience the intellectual learning and the mental
weaving even after the other has been long gone. Such an association, I believe, surpasses the usual carnal affiliations… and although you cannot help but yearn for the other’s presence, possession or physical proximity would barely be an issue. This manner of influence transcends time and place, voyaging back and forth through space and epochs like a microcosm of thoughts maturing and blooming more each time it comes back to the present.

It is as exciting as discovering a relation between two books, or be alighted upon a hidden dimension to an author’s last phrase, or discerning a certain melody out of a jumble of avant-garde notes, or even fantasizing a confectionery carrot to be real.

It is finding a perfect person despite being aware of his imperfections. It is like losing someone but understanding him more. It is having a liquid being where that particular person comes by and leaves a set of infinite ripples… and you embrace the ripples and have an outsider grimace at your existence… but you don’t mind, because you’ll always have the ripples… It feels like so many other things, but it is nothing like any other thing.

To the person who left the ripples… thank you for impressing my mind and soul to existence. Happy Birthday!

January 15 – and 364 other days remind me of you. Mea Culpa. Sue me.

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