Four Days a Libra


            Looking back on it, I’m not quite sure where Imogen came from. It seems that she just appeared one day. I didn’t think anything of her mysterious entrance into my life. She stayed only for four days, but that was more than enough time to shake me up and break my heart.

            Day One

            The day she showed up. She walked into biology lab and sat next to me, as if she’d been here the entire semester. I don’t usually know my classmates unless the professor forces us to know each other. But I would’ve remembered a face like that: pure, untouched by greed or guilt or pride or envy. She looked in my eyes and smiled and I got this feeling that this is exactly where I’m supposed to be. We goofed around as we observed photosynthetic cells under the microscope. She told me she was photosynthetic. I laughed and replied, “me too.”

            We walked through the halls on the way to my next class. I asked her where she was headed and she said she was done for the day. We found a bench and sat for a bit before I had to leave. I asked her if she had always been in my biology lab. She said yes.

            She didn’t like to talk about the past, even if it was a few days ago. When I would ask her about it, she said reliving the past is a sure way to hinder growth for the future. She lives in the moment she is in. I wondered if something happened to her that makes recalling the past difficult.

            Day Two


            Something inside of me clicked when I found out her name. Of course it’s the most captivating name in existence. We walked through the park near campus after lunch. It seemed she attracted all sorts of creatures. Flying insects would land on her, squirrels and rabbits appeared to follow her around.  When I looked at her and back at my surroundings, everything had more vibrancy. I could feel the life among the plants, the energy flowing as bees transported pollen from flower to flower. There were so many colors enclosing on us, my eyes were overwhelmed but still continued to process all I saw.

            “Can I tell you something?”


            “I see colors. Colors of all magnitudes. Colors that don’t even exist in our scope of electromagnetic light or even our imaginations.”

            My friend once told me to try to imagine a new color. Not a different shade of a color we already know, but an entirely new color. I nearly busted my brain before I realized it was impossible. It utterly frustrated me that I couldn’t picture the world she experiences. But I knew that was a view I didn’t deserve.

            It was hot in the sun, almost too much so to bear. But it didn’t bother her, in fact, it seemed to recharge her. Like each cell of her body was soaking up every speck of it. There wasn’t a single bead of sweat or a red cheek.

            Day Three

            Little bothered Imogen. Her ability to stay unbiased and unbothered and civil amazed me. Nothing could agitate her but everything could excite her. She was constantly bursting with positivity and optimism. When we talked about the shortcomings in my life, she could completely alter the way I looked at it. I realized everything I had learned through these experiences. How you perceive something, she always said, holds more weight than the actual event. She was always saying things like that.

            Today was the day when I wondered a lot of things. Like how someone can come into your life and, in such a short period of time, change everything. I wondered what I did to deserve Imogen. I wondered why she showed up. I wondered about fate and if, just maybe, someone was looking out for me somewhere.

            Day Four

            Imogen knew the whole time why she was there, while I was left playing catch up. I didn’t mind trailing behind, however I wish this day went differently. But she would say it played out exactly how it was supposed to.

            “It’s time for me to go.”

            “I can drive you home.”

            “No, I mean… I’m leaving. Something is pulling me home. And I have this different feeling of home now.”

            Even now, I think about what she said. A different feeling of home. I didn’t know what she meant at the time, but now it couldn’t be clearer. We talked for a little bit: me anxious, her at peace. My heart ached at the prospect of losing her. She put her silky hand on my cheek. This sudden, unexpected action had a larger effect than one on this earth can imagine. I know why now.

            All toxins in my being - the negative thoughts stored in my brain about people who didn’t matter, the headaches from repressed anger, the lack of forgiveness I displayed in my furrowed eyebrows, the tears cried over unworthy causes, the hateful words thrown, the stress manifested in my shoulders from being too controlling, the tightness in my chest from being too reserved with my love, the tension in my core from being too uptight, the spring in my step from always rushing from one thing to the next- dissolved with the consciousness of a hair being pulled out of one’s mouth.

            All weight I possessed bared no toll. I no longer felt constrained by the limits of my physical structure that I once called an inhibitor.

            When I came back to a conscious state about what had happened, Imogen was gone. But everything else remained. The heightened sensitivity in which I viewed the world around me, the overwhelming presence of love in everything I did, the sparkle in every ray of sunshine. According to modern science, energy cannot be created or destroyed. But Imogen was more advanced than modern science. She created energy from her bare hands. An exciting, powerful energy that now permeates into every cell of my life experience. It’s in my morning cup of coffee, it’s in my car ride to work, and in my walk through the park.

            I will always feel honored I was Imogen’s special project. I see now it was well-deserved. Now she’s moved on to other special people to help them see this marvelous world the way it’s supposed to be seen.

            She broke my heart in order to let new light in.