As I head to my next destination I amuse myself not with music, although that would be the most natural thing to do after what I just experienced, but instead I remember those few exchanges that allowed H to know music is important to me. I really don't think he's being selfish by sharing these experiences with me, by hoping I'll also love what he is passionate about. In fact I do think it’s selfless of him to share experiences that are so important to him, to let me see for myself what it feels like before he really explains why he sent me there. A selfish person wouldn't tell the rest about the things he loves. And not only that, he always has in mind the kind of things I could enjoy as well. I’m sure H is the kind to have many favourite activities but somehow he always remembers something I've previously shared and tries to connect both his preferences and mine. And in my opinion that is wonderful, that he manages to be so thoughtful and kind and open at the same time.

For what I've noticed, people tend to be very self-centred, but not in a bad way. I mean, we live our lives, not others' so it makes sense we are our first priority. Our problems make us lose sleep, our heartaches make us cry, our mistakes make us disappointed and it's because we experience them first hand. By nature other people's difficulties or likes take a secondary role. We don't do this because we don't care, but because it's just how we work. Being the other way isn't healthy either, I think, because if we don't take care of ourselves, if we don't care about what's happening to us first, who's going to do it instead? So I really find marvellous how H manages to care about his insecurities and anxieties regard meeting me—which are also my worries—and also taking into consideration my own preferences. He merges our post-it interactions smoothly and that touches me deeply.

Post-its are such small pieces of paper and you can't share much there, but somehow we've managed to let the other know about our likes and dislikes, about our personalities. It's not only him showing me his world, it is also me letting him know me and I didn't even realise until now that I had done that. When I tell my therapist about this I'm sure he'll be proud of the things I've done, the truths I've realised and the problems I've figured out during this journey.

I've always been conscious of how evolving life is. As someone who studies language and how changing this is, I'm aware that just like language is a representation of the world and culture, these also change every minute. I just assumed that changes in human beings took longer because a person can't change in one minute, right? A person can't change in one day.

But I was wrong.

A person can change in one second, if it is the right second. One experience is the trigger for a completely different view of life. One encounter can show us something we never imagined and that will change us. Life, people can change in the blink of an eye so it's not crazy to say that as of now I feel like a different person. I'm not the same Macarena that left home this morning and when I go back home I won't be the same. As this morning’s Macarena wasn't the same as yesterday’s or even last week’s. Even if I isolate myself, even if I don't interact with others I'm still part of this world and with every second I spend in I changes. All what H has made me do so far has only changed me further and faster. And all through words.

There's a saying that goes: stick and stones might break my bones but words will never hurt me. And I disagree with it. I love language, I study it and I do believe in the power of words. Yes, stick and stones might cause a lot of physical pain, but I will always recover from that. I'll go to the hospital and eventually heal. Words can create and kill in seconds and the damage is far greater than what stick and stones might do. Emotional death is worse than physical death, in my opinion. Going on whilst you're dead inside is far more cruel than actually dying.

H's words have taken me to all these places, have made me meet all these people and have unveiled so many new things for me. His words have changed me. How could someone say words are not powerful? No matter how strong you are, how much you fight and what your vision of the world is, words can touch you, they can take you, re-shape you, and leave you to die. They can re-make you or destroy you. Words will hurt you if the person uttering them wants to break you, if that person knows how to use language for the greatest damage.

Words are more dangerous in the mouth of someone than a gun in the hands of a murderer.

But words are also more beautiful in the mouth of the right person than any work of art.

One word, or a thousand of them can make magic, if you know how to use them, and that's so precious it overwhelms me most of the time. And with words you don't only communicate, you also give away a bit of you and take a bit of someone else. I've given H a lot but I've received even more! He made me meet that fabulous group because he remembered music is important for me and he wanted to share what he loved. And thinking about how I managed to share that information makes me giggle.

•••

It was one of those days in which everything is so dull you only feel sleepy. Classes were tedious, nothing really happened. I didn't even showed my clumsiness at some point. A completely boring and uneventful day. One of those days that you won't remember in a week time, unless it changes. That day changed for me.

Firstly, it had been weird that when I was going to uni no post-it was waiting for me at the bench, but I just told myself that maybe someone else picked it or maybe he didn't just have time to drop it. It wasn't like he had to leave a post-it for me every morning, I was very aware of that, but I still felt disappointed. But on my way back I took a peek at the bench and saw the yellow paper and I literally ran towards it. The mere sight of the sticky note brightened my whole day and I decided to enjoy that so I sat at the bench before reading the note.

    Don't you sometimes get too caught up in things that the world ceases around you? I think those are some of the best things in our lives. What do you think, Maca?

I immediately thought of books and this amazing power they had to suck me in and make me forget the world around. Books that could keep me awake the whole night without noticing it until the alarm went off and realisation hit me.

I thought of TV shows, new TV shows I discovered that are so captivating I can just watch a whole season in one day and ignore the rest of the world.  Especially when you discover the show and want to catch up but there are like five seasons already. Those are like crack. Not that I ever tried crack but that's how the metaphor goes.

I thought of music and how this shielded me from the outside world every time I was in motion. I thought of all the songs on my phone that kept me company on every trip and when I was alone. Music that made me feel less alone.

I took my own set of post-its and wrote my reply.

   Indeed those are the best. For me books are an escape to another world. TV shows are an addiction.  Music is my personal bubble.

    What about you? What caught you this time? —Maca

I asked because I assumed the reason he didn't leave a note that morning was due to his busy life, meaning he got caught up in something really addictive. Maybe a book, maybe work, or maybe studying for a test. Although he put it in a very bright light so I doubted it was something like uni, yet I didn't even know if he was in uni or was a working adult already. The possibilities were too many.

But I left the note nonetheless, curious of what his answer was going to be and the next day I left on time just to pick the note without being running late. However this wasn't there the next morning nor in the afternoon and I wondered if maybe he didn't receive my answer. The next morning when an answer was still missing I considered leaving a post-it with my same answer again. My post-it could've easily got lost, blown away or even taken by someone else. Or maybe his. I couldn't be sure. But I didn't need to leave my note again because in the afternoon a yellow post-it was waiting for me.

    I'm assuming you didn't get my previous note. Here it goes again:

   I totally agree with you, especially regarding music. I can't live without it! But what caught me up last time was your fault: I was watching Doctor Who. I'm addicted! Take responsibility of your actions!

I laughed out loud at the note and a passing by person stopped to stare at me as if I had grown a second head, so I covered my mouth to muffle the laughter as I felt my cheeks burning in embarrassment. The person resumed her way and I grabbed my journal to paste the new note and grab one of mine. His reply had indeed got lost at some point and I was glad he decided to leave it again for me. I would've been very sorry if I hadn't seen it at all.

    You are very welcome. I told you it was a great show. And if music is that important for you, download the soundtrack of the show. It's amazing and it helps me concentrate sometimes when I'm studying —Maca

I left my answer but I made sure it was well stuck before I went back home with a smile still on my lips, imagining a random guy pulling an all nighter to watch one of the series. I wondered in which doctor he was at the moment. I wanted to ask which one was his favourite doctor, and his favourite companion. I wanted to talk about Doctor Who with him!

The next morning his answer made me really happy.

    The soundtrack is epic! But I didn't keep the Doomsday song. That episode is too cruel and the song brings all the pain back. Thank you for the recommendation, Maca; it's given me more doors to open when I want to visit other places besides my own world (:

I loved the way he worded that and I felt so close to him in that moment because he understood so perfectly what it was to have these things, these getaways from reality. I didn't know how much he needed them, but for me they were as necessary as air. Still, it made me happy to see another person, a stranger, refer to my escape doors as that as well.

    Living in just one world is too mainstream XD —Maca

I left that note feeling silly and hoping he would understand the joke in the same way we—my friends and I—always used it. I wanted him to feel like I felt when I read his notes. Was I asking for too much? How did he feel every time he received one of my post-its? Could I ever know that?

•••

Today, as I get closer to meet him I know I will find that out, I'll ask him how these months were for him, what it was to correspond with me in this unconventional way. I'll get the answer to all those questions I've kept with me for so long.

That puts a smile on my face that I don't even notice because it's becoming familiar since I started exchanging post-its with H. A smile that is warm and hopeful but not perfect because my world hasn't been fixed and it won't be fixed, but that doesn't mean it will always be a bloody battlefield.

I don't even notice when I arrive to my next destination and my eyes widen in surprise when I see exactly where H has sent me. I knew kids were involved but I wasn't expecting this, yet it makes sense. It makes a lot of sense and it makes me happier and more excited.

I take a deep breath and step forward. 

-:-:-

hehehehe I love cliffhangers in this story. Anyhow, I hope you liked the chapter :D I enjoyed it. Also, I'll briefly post the cover and argument of the sequel: Happenstance; that way you can already add it to your libraries because once I'm a bit more free from Uni, I'll finish this and work on the sequel :D so yeah, stay tuned!

Bel, xx