Train of thought

The story

Train of thought

From the first few sentences of our first conversation, you could feel the softness in her words. We connected instantly and had no problem expressing this. She didn’t give details, yet I could sense that her past was filled with encounters and events that had deeply affected her. She tried to find the right words but they didn’t always come, and honestly, she didn’t really need them. At least, not for me.

She talked about growing up, about letting go and about the feelings she had during that process. She spoke with conviction, but I also sensed a certain fragility too. Maya dreamed of moments in which she could evoke a feeling. Mostly nostalgic, I suspected. A way of returning to a safe space, a safe moment.

Her room was filled with boxes, as was the one next door. Memories waiting to find a permanent place, longing to be recognized. If anything connected us that Monday evening, it was that.

We were both curious about each other. She asked, “Where do you come from?”. I wouldn’t answer with a place name, nor did she expect me to.