I asked her,

 “Why they send you here?

 What do you think is wrong with you?”

 and she looked at me with a calm, innocent smile.

 “ There is nothing wrong with me.

 It’s just a mistake!”

 It was like her words just flew in the air.

 I started to feel so curious about her story,

 that I impatiently asked her to continue with her talking.

 Maybe I asked it in the wrong way, because

 the next look she gave to me was a little bit angry,

 she looked a little bit disappointed from me and

 partly I saw in her eyes pain,

that she was keeping in herself, for so long,

 that she was just waiting

for the right person to show it.

 I don’t know if I was the right person,

 but I wanted to try the opportunity I had to know her better.

 As her psychologist, I kept on to the questions.

After every question, I asked,

 she locked herself even more.

 I knew that I should stop asking,

 that’s why I stopped,

because I didn’t want to lose the girl.

 The girl, that came in that room

at the beginning of the seans.

There was silence for a while.

I was watching her.

 Oh..., those eyes were speaking so loud,

 but there was no sound

  to accompany the words that were coming from there.

The silence was so deep,

 as I was in another world,

 maybe in hers, or was it mine?

 For the first time, I was lost in the silence.

 Never felt that feeling before.

 It was so beautiful and scary at the same time.

In a while, she looked at me again.

 It was like she just met my eyes for the first time,

 and she smiled playfully, like a child with a crazy idea.

 “ I will tell you, but don’t send me in that one place,

 where the ones like you, send people like me.”

 Tremors fill my body after hearing this,

 I no longer knew what to expect.

I decided to take the hit,

 after all, that was my job,

 to understand the deepest secrets of the people,

  and help them get through the hard times.

 “I won't send you anywhere, but now

 tell me, please, what bothers you?”

“I don’t fit into this world,

 and it’s hard to be among all people,

 that doesn’t understand me and only can judge...”

 I thought I knew

where that conversation was going to end,

 but my childish curiosity thought me that

 there might be something different in her.

 It should’ve had something different,

 I felt it at the moment she crossed the doorstep.

Again, she looked at me with her big eyes.

 They slowed me!

 “I know that there are people way more lonely than me,

 people with no families next to them,

 people left by the world,

 and I don’t have the right to complain about myself.”

 She stopped and it was like she was waiting for me

to give her permission to talk.

 I just make her a gesture with my head to continue talking.

 I was so ashamed of that inappropriate act of mine,

 I should’ve told her that I am listening,

 and just was going to say something when,

 “I know that it’s your work to listen to me,

 I am sorry to bother you.

 I know what it is.

 People thaught me that they will ask,

 but never listen for an answer.

 They just act politely,

 but they never listen and does not pay attention

 to what does not affect them.”

 That hurt as I heard it from her.

 I’ve heard it so many times from the other people,

 but this time I could've felt the pain

 that she kept in herself.

She continued,

 “It’s hard to pretend what you have to be,

 and ignore what you are for so many years.

 I know I will end up alone,

 just because nobody will ever understand me.

 My parents have never understood me,

 nor even my brother,

 which is also my best friend.

 They don’t understand

 that I have a lot of hidden worlds inside my head

 and I am not harming anyone with my thoughts.

 They always get angry

 when I don't pay attention to them.

 They make me feel guilty that sometimes

 I fall somewhere in the clouds,

 and move away from their faces for a little while.

 When I try to speak with them why I am as I am,

 they always change the subject,

 they always avoid these talks, and

 they never try to listen fully.

 They don’t understand!”

At that moment I felt a lump in my throat.

 I felt that my breathing stopped

while waiting for the next part of the story.

 After that, I tried to exhale as slow

 and as quiet as possible

 with the idea of not interrupting her story.

 She burst into tears and started to tremble a little.

 “ It’s so lonely when even your family

 doesn’t accept you the way you are,

 and let's not talk about the other part of the world.”

 She stopped for a second or two.

 I saw how tears were scrolling down her face

 and as they were racing, which will fall faster.

 That short silence,

 I felt lost,

 I felt her pain,

 I felt that loneliness she felt,

 I knew what she was been through

I felt as I was part of her clouds for a moment.

“I just need to know

that when I awake from my cloudy walks,

 someone will be there for me,

 someone will be there smiling

 and just hugging me while saying “Hi there little traveler”

 and doesn’t expect me to tell him all my stories,

  if I am not ready to share them,

 but to be happy to hear all of them

 when I know that I can tell him

  about each of my journeys in the clouds.

 Someone that will have patience with me,

 and I will not disappoint him,

 I will be next to him as he is next to me,

 but just to not letting me feel so lonely

 when I am sitting in this world.

 Is it so much that I am asking about it?

 Is there someone lonely as I am,

 waiting for me to say him

 “Hello, are you okay my dear?

 Is a story going to fill you better?

 Then listen,

 it’s about you...”

 Because I know that,

 if there is someone like that

 somewhere out there,

  he will turn to be my cloudy space,

 and he will be my stories.”

I was crying too,

 couldn’t say anything out loud,

 but just quietly say,

 without she could even hear me,

 “I am here!

 Hello!”.

Then I woke up,

 and I saw her next to me.

 I’ve burst into tears again.

 Then realized she was awake,

 and she was looking at me

 with her big, deep, full of adventurous stories' eyes.

 And she quietly asked,

 with her soft voice, and

 the most beautiful smile

 that someone can ever imagine,

 “Hello!

 How was your journey, my love?”

                                                                                                                                                 The Outsider