A friend of mine put his hands in my hair today.
It felt familiar although it wasn't, it felt soothing although it should've been weird, i didn't fully understand why it was happening and it didn't last long enough for me to reach my understanding. My friends hands in my hair made me think about how strange it is that some people's hands can find you with ease while others can never reach you and how it has little to do with anything rational. It also made me think of how gestures as these could have thrown my perceptions from one way to the other in another lifetime, and how today these same reaching outs in their power just make my day better. My friends hands in my hair made me feel older, and very innocent still.
I wonder if i stopped my habit of fixation, how many people could reach me that way.... i wondered if i didn't hide so well, how many people would dare to do that, i wondered if my friend in his notions felt the urge to do more...
I wondered if this comforting was of skill or emotion, was i responding to a mental move or a compassionate motion? Did he even know why his hands were in my hair?
Somehow in the stroking of my hair our realities did not deviate, we had a close perception of the situation, that happens so very rarely... and that is as comforting as the hair stroking of a distressed girl in itself.... for me at least.