I met this girl a few days ago.
We went out for dinner and somehow stayed there for hours.
That surprised me. Usually one of us wants to leave.
She was easy to sit with. Easy to laugh with. We talked shit about people. About life. About the weird things that happen to you if you stay alive long enough.
She was cute, yeah.
But there was something unguarded about her.
Most people are managing something all the time. Their image. Their damage. Their performance.
She didn’t seem interested in any of that.
A few days later we went for a walk.
We talked about childhoods. Mine in São Paulo. Hers in Hawke’s Bay. Then London.
Funny how your life moves but your childhood keeps sitting there like unpaid debt.
When you talk, she stays with you.
When she walked into rooms, her eyes wandered around first.
Most people lose that early. Life flattens them out.
But she still had some lightness in her. A bit of mischief too.
I liked that.
Now maybe I’m just drunk on my own chemistry again. Wouldn’t be the first time.
I’ve mistaken loneliness for connection before. Plenty of people have.
But this didn’t feel heavy.
It felt easy.
Like two people taking a break from the bullshit for a little while.
At least for now.