An Ode to a Stranger

Here I am. Sitting by the window of my living room, watching the world below move along, busy as ever. Hours have dragged on by, but I haven’t moved at all. Not an inch. I’m as still as a painting, yet my mind is running around, wandering. I am watching everything in front of me, noting one thing after another in my mind, for no particular reason. Nothing has truly caught my eye, though many familiar faces have gone by this window

They’re all faces I see regularly. Busy-looking adults walking their dogs, simultaneously talking on the phone about something completely mundane like taxes or the stock market, children playing tag far too close to the road, and there, of course, is the old lady who sells flower paintings. She always sets up her small table, chair and blanket near the gates of the park, puts her paintings on display, and sits down to silently weave baskets while she waits for customers. They never come. All of this was interesting once, maybe twice, but now they’re too familiar. Boring. Predictable. Same goes for the young couple who are exiting the park. They never seem to stop fighting, but I’ve seen and heard them far too many times to care, so I look away. And then… then I see you.

You. You are a just another passer-by, a complete stranger, yet you seem so intriguing. You’re mysterious, but at the same time so telling in your mannerisms. Am I interested because I’ve never seen you before, or is it something else? I cannot tell. I don’t know what it is about you, but you’ve captured my attention.

Oh, stranger, I do not know who you are, nor do I know what you’re like. But I like observing you from this high tower of mine. You look so calm. You look like you know where to go, what to do, and who you are. You know you could go far, and reach new heights, but you also value your comfort zone. You seem to be so comfortable in your own skin, not bothering to care about what the world around you thinks or what people are doing. That is beautiful, and it makes you more beautiful than perhaps any other feature could.

I do not know your name, or even what it could be, but oh, lord above, how I would love to know. I would give anything to be able to talk to you, hear your voice, your laugh. I would like to get to know you. You’re so elegant, so gracious. You’re mesmerising. I simply cannot look away from you and the slight bounce in your step. It’s like you have enchanted me. By some unseen force, or unknown power, I’m being pulled towards you.

So, I move. I open my window to get as close to you as I possibly can. I can hear your feet tapping rhythmically against the pavement, as you make your way towards the old lady. I can see you slowing your pace as you approach, seemingly you have decided to stop by her little shop. You’re so determined to see what she has to offer, your curious mind leading your feet her way.

Once you finally set foot in front of her, she pauses her weaving and smiles up at you. I see you return the gesture. That surprises me. Most of the time people stop there without as much as acknowledging the lady’s existence. They stop, glance at the paintings and leave. Most don’t even stop, they just glance at the lady and her flowery shop while they run on their merry way to heaven knows where. But not you. You’re actually looking at her, smiling at her, talking to her. She seems to smile brighter and brighter as your conversation develops, and she looks at you with such fond eyes. She seems just as enraptured as I am.

Oh, stranger, what is it about you? What do you do that commands attention from the people that you pass by? How peculiar you are. I can see the world stopping, just for a second, to look at you. The old lady, the children, the busy businesspeople, even the young couple stops their arguing for a moment. Everyone stops.

Everyone but me. Here I am, moving for the first time in hours just to catch a glimpse of your eyes, reaching further out the window in hopes of hearing your voice. Just what is it about you that makes me move like this? What are you doing to me? Is there a string attached to my heart that you’re pulling with all your might? Is your voice that of a siren’s? Are you singing your mesmerising songs, luring me to shallow waters, only for me to crash my ship? Are you luring me to my death, so that you can swoop down to collect your prey and devour me whole? That may very well be. And I do not care. I’d love nothing more than letting you pull me even closer, lure me even deeper into your magical aura.

Oh, you beautiful stranger. Never have I been this enthralled with another. Not once in my life. I have cared for none but you. You alone have made me move like this. You alone have captured my attention in all of the hours I have spent at my window. Your calm, confident beauty shines through your every move, and the grip you have on my heart grows stronger by the second. I am yours, body and soul. I let myself get lost in thought, thinking of you. I can no longer see anything else; I can no longer take note of the changes in the environment. I see you. Only you.

And then you’re gone. Just like that, you’re gone. I could hardly register you moving, and you were already gone. You disappeared from my sight. I can no longer see your smile, nor can I hear your footsteps. I can no longer feel you pulling on my heart. You took it. You took it along when you left. And now, here I am, standing by the window of my living room, watching the world below move along, busy as ever. But my world has changed. Forever.