Wanderers and dreamers

She was a mystery, even to herself.

She was a drifter, a wanderer, a wonderer - a traveler who travelled for the sake of the journey rather than for the destination.

In the world she came from, this often meant lonely nights, like this one.

Time had taught her that these deep, haunting pangs of loneliness and longing came and went in seasons, and she had learned to embrace the uncertainty of when the next lonely spell would hit.

She learned to let these feelings roll around her, wash over her - drench her in longing and desire - for she had come to realize that human imagination was a powerful thing, and the longing for an object of desire was often more pleasurable than actually obtaining the object itself.

Still, in spite of the delicious seduction of unfulfilled longing, in spite of the fact that she didn't need a man to fulfill her and give her life meaning, she was only human, and on most lonely nights, she was just  like any other ordinary lonely girl.

Tonight, was one of those nights.

One of those nights when she'd look up into the sky, an empty, aching heart, wondering if there was anyone out there who felt the way she was feeling.

Six billion people in the world... surely one of them knew what it was like to feel lonely?

Surely, surely - there was one person out there who thought the idea of chasing loneliness away with a one night stand was even lonelier, and sadder, than actually being alone?

Surely, surely - there was one person out there who wanted to be held as badly as she did... to just be wrapped up in someone else's arms as the rest of the world spins madly on?

These were the kinds of questions she thought about on nights like these.

And he, was the kind of person she thought about on nights like these.