the dying leaves; to whom it may concern

Somewhere between writing, drinking, and studying I’ve found myself craving privacy. Finding privacy in a digital world has been quite a challenge, for anyone can find you if they are persistent enough. So in order to be out of reach, I pulled my identity from any social media accounts and rested from whatever creative thoughts I had by abstaining from writing.

It may seem like a challenge to refrain from using the internet to express your daily emotions and accomplishments, but after a week or so, it became necessary to live in my new bubble where my cell phone didn’t chirp and reaching for my phone in free moments was deemed childish. The journey to enjoy myself and the multitudes of conversations around me was enough for me to be consistent in my new practice.
The weekends consisted of reading, weekdays consisted of studying, and somewhere in between I allocated time for leisure. Leisure as in taking a walk in a secluded area, lunches in restaurants where the wine list is pleasing and spontaneous day trips to nearby cities.
Traveling in silence was a struggle for me, as I wandered into cafe’s and galleries I noticed I missed just one thing; sharing. Sharing moments with someone of importance. Sharing the ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ when it came to witnessing light shows or breathtaking art. Sharing a dance or even sharing laughter between people who understood.
The world was just as beautiful as it was before, but this time, it was a touch lonelier than I was anticipating. It was not my phone that rang, and it was not my husband on the other line asking me which table I was seated at. It was not me when a friend surprised me by tapping me on the shoulder and it was not me who received a rose from my confidant.

Somewhere in between all of the emotions flying around in the air, I thought of you.
I was sitting in a yellow dress under a weeping tree. Pigeons surrounded me in hopes that I would toss out crumbs to them and they stared anxiously waiting. There was a time when you and I came to this area of the town, I would laugh at the sight of the pigeons landing on your arms, feet and shoulders just to try and steal the bread from your hands.
I thought of us and our walk through the city square, you instinctively walked against the curb to shield me from any danger that could have come from the street. I remembered when the rain, as soft and beautiful as it was, made an unexpected appearance and you swiftly removed your coat and shielded me by holding it above my head. I’ve never forgot your sweet gestures and your proud smile when I told you how I felt for you. You would begin to glow, your skin radiant and eyes profoundly reflecting light from within. You used to tell me that true love is found in the moments of silence that two lovers share when they embrace. You used to tell me that regardless of where we were in the world, we would always share the same view of the moon. You used to tell me that all rain is majestic and healing and once we embraced the drops on our skin we could then embrace the world for what it is to many; a home floating in a galaxy filled with stars.
A light rain began to come down as I walked back to the chateau and in that instant I thought of how we first met. It was a rainy day in the village and I had lost my way because of course, there was no cellular reception to disrupt the beauty of the rolling hills that surrounded me. You were kind to me when you stumbled upon me, offering me shelter and food until the taxi service was available. I thought, what a perfect moment, lost in a beautiful setting with a parisian stranger. After walking just under a mile, and continuously trying to connect to the intranet, I asked if you when I would begin to receive service again. Your response was this;
‘Why waste an alluring moment by attaching a phone to the equation. Phones are not necessities. Being able to enjoy the time melt away is all we should desire. There is no one in the world that will enjoy a moment as much as you do when you are living in it. Sink into the grass and enjoy the countryside, the heart yearns for it.’

Six weeks later, here I am beneath dripping clouds and your words have never been clearer for me. Privacy from the world leads us to memories that we paint clearer with words than we do with still-frame images. Embrace it.


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