Like Wind Through My Fingers

by misslampa

I think it was this scene from City of Angels (released in 1998) that first got me to notice how pleasant it must be to be still in the presence of something unseen. I can’t be certain, but one thing I’m sure of is this: I’ve had this love affair with the wind for as long as I can remember.

And even now that I’m old enough to know I shouldn’t be doing it, I still roll the car window down, hang my arm out, and feel the wind go through my palm and fingers sometimes. It still ranks high in my list of pure, simple pleasures.

There’s something soothing about having a gentle breeze play with your hair, your skirt, your tears – anything, really. It’s like being intimate with something that, try as it might, won’t ever be able to invade your personal space. And for someone like me with intimacy issues, that’s the rough equivalent of having your cake and eating it, too.

I love that it’s there and not there at the same time, that you can feel the breeze but not really touch it one bit, that you have to enjoy it while it’s there because there’s no way to make it stay. By its very definition, it can’t stay, for it won’t be wind if it’s not headed anywhere but where it is now. It’s paradoxical and romantic at the same time – two things a lot of people take a lifetime to become or understand. How can one not fall in love with that?

Uh-oh. The rainy and breezy night has gotten me overthinking again. It must be time to let the sound of raindrops lull me to sweet, sweet sleep.

From my dreamy heart to yours, good night.





photo taken from‘s post about their hunt for the worst movie of all time.

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