Goodbye Stranger

This summer so far has been a bit of an emotional roller coaster. You know, the good thing about all this social networking and globalisation and connecting with people all over the world is, well, you get to connect with people all over the world. The bad thing is, they’re nowhere near you. So on rare occasions, you take a trip to actually meet your Facebook friends in person. Which is a wondrous, amazing thing for me – I’m usually shy and socially awkward, but if you’re used to chatting with those same people every day anyway, and you’ve already established that awkward is something that applies to them in very much the same measure, suddenly it becomes very easy. You swap the screen for the real person, and you just pick up where you left off online a few hours ago, and you instantly hit off and feel comfortable and at home and…that’s your problem right there. Because you only have a few hours, or maybe a day or two, and then you have to leave and there’ll be thousands of miles between you again. You can’t go to the movies with them tomorrow or have a coffee the day after.

Meh.

Anyway, here’s a poem I wrote about all that.

*****

Goodbye Stranger

I leave reluctantly

thinking

fearing

knowingIMG_0650

that I have forgotten something

but then I realize

I’ll be all right

it’s just a piece of my soul

which shatters every time I say goodbye

soon there’ll be pieces of me

scattered along every road

and all the way across the ocean

*****

But enough with the melodrama. I’ve also seized a bit of time to take a few more pictures, so maybe have a look, some of them aren’t too bad. Hope you’re enjoying summer, wherever you are!

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About angelikarust

My name is Angelika Rust. I was born in Vienna in 1977. These days, I live in Germany, with my husband, two children, a despotic couple of cats and a hyperactive dog. After having tried almost every possible job from pizza delivery girl to HR consultant, I now make a living knowing English. No, I haven’t yet figured out what I want to be when I grow up, whenever that may be. In the meantime, I write the occasional book.
This entry was posted in Poems that won't change the world, Ramblings, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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