One is born and grows up in a desert of a country, not knowing the cold, not knowing what it's like to even wear a sweater. The other is born and grows up in sometimes-below-zero degree temperature for at least four months of the year.
One grows up carefree, wild, a rebel, wanting to play out, to discover the world and the things in it; the other, grows up shy, reserved, quiet yet determined. Determined to do something good, to be someone good, to make people laugh.
One grows to have many friends, acquaintances, a huge group of 45, with almost Made in Chelsea-like traits, where friendship and lust is rife among the group. Making everyone laugh along the way. The other, grows to become quieter, a wallflower, alone, bullied in a different country where people just don't seem to be the same, just don't seem to understand.
One loses the support of a parent, a guide, a mentor forever; is supported by friends through the loss. The other is supported by the love of the family when there are no friends.
One continues through teens and early twenties partying, enjoying life, being free like it should be. The other, devotes to one person through late teens and early twenties, ending up lost, frightened, alone...bullied.
One knows nothing but love; crushing love. With so much love to give, whom to give it to, when the person they want to give to does not want it? Nor do they want to give any of their own? The other, has not yet known love, only a crushing pain when the one with whom they are besotted, fall for someone else, unknowingly. Over and over again.
Yet, both love to write. To perform. To lose themselves within their writing, their art. To be content within their own company after years of being surrounded. Both love long walks, fresh air, good food. Both have seen and felt immense loss, both have felt alone, both have considered quitting. Both have known what it is like not to fit in, to be 'different.'
Both have an innate strength that only comes with being different. From a loss so deep, so intense, it becomes hard to breathe. Desperate to feel anything but crushing pain. Both have hit rock bottom and realised that the only way can be up. It has to be.
One is fiery, vivacious, emotionally charged, wearing their heart on their sleeve. The other is calm, grounded, logical, able to see through the haze. Both have been looking for something, someone, to release them. To free them. To love. So after hundreds of cycles of friends and love and loss and hope and fun and joy and pain and laughter and sadness...they find each other. Both make each other laugh, love, dream, live. The last piece of the puzzle fits. It is complete. They realise they have, at long last, come home. They are free.
So different. Yet so much the same.
One grows up carefree, wild, a rebel, wanting to play out, to discover the world and the things in it; the other, grows up shy, reserved, quiet yet determined. Determined to do something good, to be someone good, to make people laugh.
One grows to have many friends, acquaintances, a huge group of 45, with almost Made in Chelsea-like traits, where friendship and lust is rife among the group. Making everyone laugh along the way. The other, grows to become quieter, a wallflower, alone, bullied in a different country where people just don't seem to be the same, just don't seem to understand.
One loses the support of a parent, a guide, a mentor forever; is supported by friends through the loss. The other is supported by the love of the family when there are no friends.
One continues through teens and early twenties partying, enjoying life, being free like it should be. The other, devotes to one person through late teens and early twenties, ending up lost, frightened, alone...bullied.
One knows nothing but love; crushing love. With so much love to give, whom to give it to, when the person they want to give to does not want it? Nor do they want to give any of their own? The other, has not yet known love, only a crushing pain when the one with whom they are besotted, fall for someone else, unknowingly. Over and over again.
Yet, both love to write. To perform. To lose themselves within their writing, their art. To be content within their own company after years of being surrounded. Both love long walks, fresh air, good food. Both have seen and felt immense loss, both have felt alone, both have considered quitting. Both have known what it is like not to fit in, to be 'different.'
Both have an innate strength that only comes with being different. From a loss so deep, so intense, it becomes hard to breathe. Desperate to feel anything but crushing pain. Both have hit rock bottom and realised that the only way can be up. It has to be.
One is fiery, vivacious, emotionally charged, wearing their heart on their sleeve. The other is calm, grounded, logical, able to see through the haze. Both have been looking for something, someone, to release them. To free them. To love. So after hundreds of cycles of friends and love and loss and hope and fun and joy and pain and laughter and sadness...they find each other. Both make each other laugh, love, dream, live. The last piece of the puzzle fits. It is complete. They realise they have, at long last, come home. They are free.
So different. Yet so much the same.
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