When My Soul Recognized You Before My Eyes Could

On quiet days, I disappear like common sense in a group project (introvert). Other days, I thrive on people's energy—like every friend I make is proof that the multiverse is real, and I’m just meeting alternate versions of myself. Some days, as an ambivert, I dance between solitude and the warmth of others, as if they were never separate. Surrounded by faces, every face is a mirror, yet never the whole of me.

I don’t just listen; I spot red flags like I’m Sherlock Holmes, finding drama that people thought they could cover with a band-aid and some hope. To talk is to express. To listen is to uncover. And sometimes, what you uncover is that they were the villain all along. I don’t do coffee dates because, well, I’m not a free therapist. The client, in denial, seeks connection, yet unknowingly lays their subconscious bare, like a patient on an operating table.

And then you appeared...
Like a flower blooming at the right moment.

And I went quiet.

Mostly because I was baffled.

How?

How can you be both:
My Zen Master...
And the reason I need a mental health retreat in Thailand? 🤭