Tabula Rasa

He never wonders what happens now. Maybe he never cares. He’s changed, they say, as though he’s become a bit more forgiving. Gone were the days he’d look for something that wasn’t there. Instead, he stayed with the thing that matters the most - his happiness.

He was spontaneous now, somewhat unpredictable, even. Not so long ago, he decided to take a leap of faith and shared himself to someone he didn’t know. Small talk, he considered. He contended with his own reservations, still, but he tried to make it work. Eventually, he formed a bond.

It wasn’t surprising that he decided to stick to that resolve. He realized then that there will always be a place for the thing they call small talk; no longer keeps to himself nor thinks that conversations always had to be intellectual, lest he becomes marooned in his own solitary dimension with nothing to talk to, or talk about. It doesn’t matter if he had to talk about David Archuleta, else explain microcontroller programming to someone he never knew. In a lot of ways, it was different now, and, yes, he’s changed. He was no longer alone. This was where he was.

He never wonders what happens now. That it’s been said it bordered on desperation never bothers him anymore. He wasn’t sure what he found, but he was happy; and that was all that mattered.