There are different types of people we keep meeting in our lives. But few leave a mark. Even fewer leave a mark so deep, it’s hard to ever fade. Scars are conceived when the memory or thought is so deep, it embeds as a core memory. Something that begins to define our personality. And in the conceiving of scars, there plays an immeasurable role a Wonderwall. Wonderwall is someone you find yourself thinking about all the time. Someone you are immeasurably uncontrollably infatuated with. Every person who has had the fortune yet misfortune of having encountered this situation will explicitly recall the first time it happened. They were ebullient. The other was different. More different they have ever encountered, more different than any other person they could ever meet. They could swear there was nothing sweeter than the unique vibe that was in the air. However most people will also recall with a morose face, how all of it was not to be. How it fell from the sky to below the ground where it was buried but kept digging up its own gravestone time and again. That is the part which precisely leaves a scar. You ask yourself why did it ever happen, there is no logical explanation for what you saw, the non-existent extraordinary in the ordinary. Yet there is nothing left to be undone. You are who you are now. And that is a yellowed page of the book yet to be written.
However there are people who are luckier than they deserve to be. They run into people who are by far inexplicably rare and the utmost needed at that time. They are beyond the description of a few words let alone a single. They simply are the Wonderwall’s cure.
These people dare give no warning in bumping in to you and coming into your life as if you reserved a seat all along. These people are the people whose eyes speak of not joy, but hope. They know the pain. But they always find their way up the pyramid. As you get to know these people, you find there appears a small place in your subconscious. You slowly get to know them. Always asking questions like you’re already eighty and they asking none at all. Yet everything they say makes sense in a sour but uplifting way to you. It’s like whisky. Just not toxic or a turncoat. You slowly see that place in your subconscious grow. How it develops a mind. How it starts taking shape. How it forms the shadow of the Wonderwall cure. It always is there, leaving you in solitude, but coming back the instant you’re lonely. You realize after a while the Wonderwall cure does not have to do new things every time to get you going. Even while talking to them you subconsciously think of all the good they’ve done to you and how they’ve fixed you from scratch, and a little thing you had lost a long time back has rebirth. Hope. Hope sometimes is a good thing. You realize how important that strange person you bumped into actually turned out to be. How different life could be if you couldn’t muster up the will and courtesy to nod to them or say Hi. You realize that, they complete you. Rather you feel complete and one with yourself in their presence. Be it thoughts or physical. Sometimes you even think you’re head over heels falling for them, but you realize it’s just you letting go of yourself because you have faith in them. You trust them. Probably more than yourself.
But never should you just fall for them or not snap out of the delusion. Or even worse hide it from them. For that would be taking them for granted. And that would mean you missing out on all the unpredictability and radical musings of their serene stardust soul. Do everything you can to identify who that person has been in your life. Do everything everyday to thank them for what they do without even realizing it for the people who actually make a difference are the ones most in need of others doing it for them. And in the end you can only wish, and hope that one day, you too would cause someone else to feel the same way about you without even knowing you did it. And with that your eyes close on the clear starry sky. Drifting to lucid memoirs.
Recognize that person. They are the opposites yet reflection of you.