I usually control when I am open to receiving communication from the other side. I never initiate communication unless the space and time are right, and the reasons are appropriate. However, exceptions do happen, and they are rare.
In my early twenties, I visited friends in Florida, a bunch of guys I knew from school. We had a great time together, discovering different places to eat and drink, hanging out, and playing cards at home. A few days after my arrival, someone suggested that they take me to a certain club, and I noticed cheeky smiles all around. The club was bigger than I had expected. The music was loud, and as soon as we entered, I saw a couple of girls dancing on a stage. I had never been to a gentleman’s club before, and my friends giggled at my flabbergasted expression.
Before long, I found myself chatting with one of the waitresses. She was fascinated to learn more about London, so we began with small talk. Then she told me about her cat and how sad she was to have lost him nearly a week earlier. As she spoke, I felt the now-familiar sensation that comes when my sensitivity becomes heightened. An image of a cat flashed into my mind, and it was so overwhelming that I could not ignore it.
I asked her if her cat looked a certain way. She looked almost shocked and asked how I knew what he looked like. I do not remember exactly what I said, but I went on to describe his personality, among other things, without taking a breath. Eventually, I stopped and felt a little embarrassed. I had no idea what I had just said, and I lacked confidence in what I was experiencing. She grew emotional and didn’t say anything, but she smiled.
Before she left, she asked for my London address. She said that she might visit one day.
My friends were puzzled to see me chatting with the waitress instead of joining them for drinks and having fun.
When I returned to London, I found a postcard on my doorstep. It was from her.
“Thank you…”
