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THE EMBRACE

 A schizoid reflection

 By Cornelius

 I am alone in my room reading a book when I retreat into my mind -

which is something I do at intervals throughout the day.

 As always, the focus is something I witnessed in the world around me.

 Social relationships are difficult for me to understand.

 As I walked on the sidewalk, deep in thought as always,  

a couple – both just teenagers - crossed my field of vision.

 They faced one another, her long, wavy, black hair partially obscuring her face,

and her hands against his chest.  

 His arms embraced her, his fingers interlaced against her back,

his eyes were closed, and he held her with an intensity which spoke of comfort.  

  I wondered about the circumstances that had led to this moment and, as I approached them,

 I discarded my theories one by one ...

Had a family member died? Had she suffered in some way? Had they ended their relationship?

 Finally, I concluded that, at their age, it was most likely to be some family discussion.

 When I was close to them, the young man opened his eyes and our eyes met ...

 As always when this happens, I diverted my gaze.  

 I passed alongside them, and heard her sobs as she explained what happened ...

I did not want to know, and continued walking. But then the age-old question popped into my mind,

 the question that haunts me, the question to which I’ve been seeking an answer for years .

 How did they begin a relationship with each other ...?

 How does it happen that two people who have never seen each other, suddenly speak, spend time together, and end up being partners?

 I cannot understand how this works ...

All I know is that everyone seems so normal .., everyone except me.

 Conversation is something I find difficult to initiate, and even more difficult to maintain.

I am indifferent to it, and find it totally uninteresting.  

 

 They are always people who would like to know me, but I never want to know them. And the pattern is always the same:

 they like me and find me interesting, if rather quiet.

But the relationship stands no chance because days, weeks, months, and even years go by,

and they never hear from me again ...

 

 I have arrived at the auditorium. I look around for a place to sit, preferably one where there are no people around me.

I notice where some of my schoolmates are seated, but I decide to sit alone,

alone, as I have been for years. This does not bother me, nor do I dislike it.

I am alone – as I am in my room, my favourite place ...

 I take seat, and again begin to study a world I find incomprehensible; I see people speaking, in groups, laughing…

I try to imagine what they are saying, what they speak about with such animation…

I notice their expressions,

 the movements of their bodies, their arms, heads… What motivates them to participate?

And how can something so foreign to me, come so naturally to them?

 In that instant, I think I should join them ...

Though I consider it, the need is not forthcoming. I stay in my seat, and continue to observe and study them ...

 By Cornelius

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