Change of Address Requested

What I am about to post is something that I wouldn't mind getting feedback on if you would care to share. It is a personal narrative paper I wrote at 1:30 last night after my car fiasco and everything else that went wrong. So I am a little weird about my feelings on the situation itself, but that isn't what this is about.

I left out some details. It was already longer than the required length. And I restrained some present personal feelings that I could add. But take it for what it is, and take it how you will.

Comments and feedback are welcome. Thank you.


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Laughter rings out, floating to the ears of any and all near and around. A feast has been prepared, and all are partaking in the marvelous foods placed before them. Each and every person is dressed differently, as if they are all from different periods across time and from all different countries and cultures. No one is assigned any role that they themselves do not take on, and no one will try to force anything onto anyone else. Everyone is urged to try new and different things. Everyone is encouraged. But no one is ever forced.

The feast does not last long. The food is consumed, and the populace separates into different little groups. Each group has their own stories to tell and things to do. But they do not remain separated for time has come to help clean up the mess that was made in preparing and consuming such a magnificent feast. The cleaning has to be done before the playing can return. Before the dancing can begin.

I do my part to help clean up. I return dirty dishes to the kitchen where a crew has been self-assembled to wash, rinse, dry, and put away the numerous dishes. I help move tables and chairs, and I help to return order to a formerly messy room. For I am a Viking woman, at least that is the role in which I have taken on in this little game of ours. Viking women are strong women, and they know how to get things done in order to resume play. In this case, dancing is what I and others wait for.

Once the cleaning has been finished, people begin to trickle off to do different things from staying to dance to going to a bonfire and from going off to drink with friends to going to bed for the night after a long day in the sun and heat. I stay in the room that I have helped to clean and straighten so that we may dance. These dances are ones that I am quite fond of in a very strange way, but it is not something that I regret or am ashamed of. Everyone is entitled to their likes and dislikes. No one is exactly the same.

You and I have been talking again as we have been since yesterday. We talk and play our own little game. We poke each other, and I steal your hat. I like your hat. It is a beautiful black felt hat with one side pinned up. Where the side is pinned up there is a fold. Tucked carefully into that fold just right is a vibrant, large red feather. I have been playing with that feather all day, and you have let me play with it. If you really wanted your hat back as badly as you seem to like to pretend, you would have taken it already. Why haven’t you taken it back? Why did I keep taking it back after you were finished with whatever thing you needed it for? Why am I like this with a man I barely know?

We dance together, you and I.. We have created a very powerful bond in a very short period of time. I have not yet realized the extent of that bond, but it does not matter at that moment. What matters is the dance, the steps, your touch, my touch, our moves, and how you constantly mess something up in a very adorable way. The most important thing is the way that you are holding me. You hold me close and tightly, as if you don’t want me to leave. I will remember that feeling and the way you hold me for the rest of my life, I think.

As the night progresses, the dancing stops, and you are getting ready to get your things and head home. Actually, I believe you were possibly going to some drunken girl’s place, if I remember correctly. You are talking with others. You have stories to tell, and you have a story that you desire to hear. You move over to the group that I am with, and you call one of them over to tell a story. I follow. I like these stories.

The story is one that I have heard before, but it is a very funny one nonetheless. I am standing near you as I listen. This is an unintentional location. I just needed to be out from in front of the middle of the doorway, and moving out of the way placed me beside you.

The stories are over, and you are leaving. You ask for a hug, and I allow you that hug. A hug is a hug, after all. A hug could not really hurt anyone. I do not expect anything more to spring from that hug, that gesture of goodbye so we hugged. I go off to find someone to talk to inside, but all I find is an empty room. So I return outside to head up to the cabin I am sharing with other girls to sleep.

As I slip past you, I poke your side. This has been our game all weekend. I keep walking, not stopping. I do not think that you will do anything. I am wrong because soon enough I hear your footsteps and the words of the others around you. I take off running.

You follow me, and I smile. I like to play. Everyone has a child inside of them sometimes. And every child loves to play. There is no way around letting a child play and have fun. They will find ways to make it happen even without your assistance.

We keep running, not long and not far but running. I pass a tree and mention my words about falling off-handedly. You reply just a second before your hands reach out and grab me by the waist, pulling me back and turning me so that my back is just inches away from that tree. You are holding me as you were while we were dancing, close and tight. For a second we just lock eyes with one another. The next second you poke me, and I poke you before I slip away and head to the cabin once again on the mission of getting some sleep.

Why did you hold me like that? Look at me like that? Where did those feelings come from? Where did that passionate, intense look in your eyes come from?

You have made an impact on my life in a way that will never be forgotten whether or not you realize that. You have proved that there is no minimum time required to develop some kind of deep and meaningful connection. Any person can meet any one person at any point in any place that will change their life in ways that are unimaginable. Love at first sight? I believe it in. Even if it is just strong like and very strong chemistry, there can be something there in even the shortest amount of time. You can not help who you end up loving.