Most of the times, the most important people in your life have always been there. Or at least for a month, let’s say.
And then, once in a while, specially when you travel, you meet a special person. Someone you connect with. Someone you can talk to for hours. Someone who gives you a different perspective of life and makes you think in a different way. He was one of those people. 3 days were enough. He had been travelling for a long time (or should I say for his entire life?). He was walking from Mozambique to Uganda. Or hitchhiking, or paying barely nothing for rides (and that is why he ended up falling off a bus one time, or having to camp at the border another time to get a cheaper rate on the almost called ferry boat). He was there when I was heart broken. He was there when my camera was stollen. And my flip flops. My entire bag. He bought everything I needed and never made a fuss out of it. And gave me his shoulder to cry.
We didn’t really speak again for a long time (or we did, once in a long while), and all of a sudden we met in London. 2 days ago.
And I was reminded of why he was so important in the first place. He truly is one of the sweetest and most interesting people I have ever met.
Maybe in 4 years I’ll meet him again. Or maybe never.
He will always be in my heart, though.