What she told me

I was talking to a woman on a bench one evening. She seemed rather distraught. I asked her if it was the weather and all she said was, “No.” We sat together for a while and I felt her eyes on me. I looked over at her and I could see a glisten in her eyes. It was a sad, knowing glisten and I could tell that the conversation we were soon to share had nothing to do with cloud activities.

She said, “I have realized the difference between feeling and experiencing.” She looked away and it seemed as if she was pulling pieces of my life straight from my compilation of memory. I asked her what the difference was, but she wouldn’t answer. She told me,”I have lost the ability to feel.” A long inhale and an exhale later, she continued, “I lost the ability to feel because the people I felt with are no longer available. They are no longer with me and I no longer feel.”

“I once had a theory that I now know to be fact. I have experience wonderful triumphs and heart wrenching tragedies. I have seen the worlds wonders and its great downfalls. The difference between the various experiences is the company I kept during them. I felt things because we all felt them. It was a cognitive connection between us. It was the sharing of it that made it real. The things I’ve done without them hardly seem real to me. I have watched a child chase a balloon down the street as my friend sat by my side. And I have seen the beauty of France and Italy on my own. The first happening felt beautiful, which is a very strange word to feel. But I felt it. And I felt it strongly. The second, I simply experienced, as if I was viewing a bad piece of art in a waiting room.”

She stood up as she finished her sentence and quietly walked away.