tell your story, love

The music is pounding in my headphones, which makes me feel  like I am a world away. Yet as I look around, every part of me feels like I am here, relaxed deep in this chair, sitting amidst strangers, soaking up every detail, every ounce of warmth the building has to offer.

The noise in my ears fades and another song rises, this with a different mood than the last. It makes me think, makes me wonder about those who surround me. Sometimes I can see strangers and only see strangers. I miss seeing their stories, their lives, and when I take a moment to notice, its there.

Oh it’s there.

It’s all there.

Sometimes it’s just laced so deep that many don’t notice. And I know deep in my heart, that many has too often been me.

I don’t know what the words are but I see their mouths moving and I imagine. It’s a group of friends, laughing and enjoying simple time together. Amidst the group there’s two particular beings whose story was easy to catch a glimpse of. There he is, sitting across the group from her; a young lady, quiet, yet just as alive as the rest. He begins to talk and his hands dance wildly in the air, he’s happy to see her, I can tell. Finally, after finishing, his shoulders lowered and his fingers wrapped around the warm cup of coffee that was brought to the table. But through it all his eyes continually raced back to meet hers. He’s in love, you don’t need sound or words to know that. Soon the conversation between the group died down as they sipped their steaming cups of delight.

I smile and drift my attention to all of the others scattered across the room.

My music still beating in my ears. It feels like I am in a dream, like everyone around me is moving to the music. Moved by every beat and cue, all flowing together in time.

There’s a elderly couple sitting at a table near the window, and my heart melts when I see the gentleman make his wife laugh. She closed her eyes and when she opened her mouth you could see the laughter surround them. Then after she caught her breath she looked back at her husband and touched his hand. Oh how precious to have a love that makes you laugh, even after all that time. They carried on in conversation, relaxed and completely oblivious to the world outside. 

I bring the cup in my hands up to my mouth and sip slowly, determining whether my coffee has finally reached the perfect drinking temperature, and to my fine surprise it has. Then all of a sudden my attention is beckoned towards the door as a little bells dings and announces the arrive of another guest. Through the door a young lady walks in. As she closed the door behind her she stood still for a moment and seemed to breathe it all in. A wave of settlement seemed to quickly replace the look of the haste on her face. She looked relieved, as if she had returned to a familiar place. She ordered her drink and then settled into an available chair. From her bag she pulled out a worn book and opened it to a particular page, seeming to continue right where she left off. Within seconds she blended into the rest of us, content and settled in this beautiful place.

As I continue to sip my coffee, I feel something stirring inside of me. Then, it starts to show up. Slowly, but its there. And when it does, I see it clearly and I take a deep breath. I feel the weight of it deeply, yet it soothes my soul, and I let it move me the way it wants to.

Even without words, these people don’t seem so much like strangers anymore.

We are, every one of us, just like them.

We wait, we dream, we chase the right words. We sip slowly, wanting to taste every moment, clinging to the way it warms us and in a way touches our souls. And so we sip slower, in an effort to hold the moments like these just a little longer.  

Amidst all the others, there is another girl, her own story being told. She hides amidst the peaceful chaos, content in the moment she’s found. Her keyboard is her confidante, and she’s absorbed in a world of words.

She spends her days watching, writing, waiting…

Years ago, she heard a voice when there was only darkness. It was, to her, a promise that she would never be alone again.

Eyes heavenward, she drank it deep, savored it fully, and let it bring her the life-breath she was gasping for.

And even now, she remembers. 

And above all else, she chooses to believe it.

“Tell your story, love. And when you do, they will certainly hear theirs…”