I looked at him, glad my head had now cleared. Within that relief was a feeling of an unspoken connection. If you asked me to explain it, I couldn't.
I felt a bit melancholy for some reason, my longing becoming ever more strong. I looked at him with bittersweet eyes. I needn't say thank you. He was already a part of me, in my head. Just as yin is to yang, he was the white blazing sun in my soul.
He looked at me in a similar way, briefly reaching his hand out to my jaw, tracing it with a hidden gentleness. Something more happened when we made contact. A spark, a glimmer.
It felt cheesy to say, too soon even. It was merely a feeling, a deeper understanding of something that lay underneath the surface.
He opened his mouth as if to say something again, then slowly closed it and gave me a smile. That smile looked so warm, and so sad.
Somehow I felt like I saw the end of this story before it had even begun, yet I did not know what it meant. Do some beginnings start with the end of one story? I felt the chapter on my life had already closed. Now I was staring at someone who challenged that very perception.
I took a deep, slow breath, trying to collect my thoughts. I searched for the words to say in this situation. All I could manage was to almost whisper, "Ah, so glass blowing."
It was a very silly thing to say in this situation. He seemed to understand it though and offered me his hand, helping me upwards with significant difficulty. I barely let him help me. His frame may have been small but I was seeing a new kind of strength in him, one that surpassed his stature.
Working around him was a different kind of way to acclimate. I had known bits and pieces about him from my time in the void; however he'd seldom told me much about himself. I started by trying to do glass blowing and teaching him some pieces of information that seemed to flow to me freely as I worked.
He listened to me patiently. Sometimes a glimpse in his eyes suggested he knew it already, but he still let me talk on.
I wondered how it was possible to miss someone and feel lonely when you don't even remember them, but a subtle feeling of missing filled me again as I quietly worked.
We finished up for the day. I felt a bit feverish. Sometimes working at glass blowing while in a new environment can make one ill. I wasn't sure where that piece of information came from in my head, but I realized that I was slowly regaining bits and pieces of memories.
Every time I bumped into him, the feeling became more intense. "Here, wipe your brow with this," he said, handing me a soft towel.
We made our way out. He took me to stop by a waterfront and sit on some benches. We stared in silence at the sunset for a while. It was dusk now. Somehow it reminded me of myself. I wondered what would happen if the sun and the moon could meet more, how one is always chasing the other.
I cast a tentative sidelong glance at Yang. He looked more peaceful, staring at the sunset. I reached out slowly, tucking a wisp of hair behind his ear. I did it without even realizing it. "Ah, I am so sorry," I said tentatively. "I overstepped without thinking. That is very unbefitting of a gentleman."
He chuckled a bit. "It is twenty-first century now, you don't have to fret all the time about this."
Still though, I felt responsible for my actions. I did not know how to respond to it, so I said to him, "I take it you know more than I about all this." I paused to look at him, seeing him quietly nod.
"Can you tell me anything?"
"It depends on what you wish to know. Some things in this world are best learned at the right time," he softly replied. Despite his boyish looks, he had a sense of deeper wisdom to him.
"Can I ask, why is it when we touch I get flashes of memories or strange feelings through my body?"
He softly inhaled, putting his hands by his side as he gripped the bench and looked up at the sky above us. "To be honest, I think it's because of our yin and yang connection. Are you familiar?"
I shook my head. "Well only a bit, but it wasn't exactly a big topic in that time of Germany."
He laughed a dry laugh. "No, I suppose it wasn't."
He continued though, "Yin and yang represent the sun and the moon, the dark and the light. They are two halves of one whole. They symbolize that harmony comes from both. They show it isn't black and white. The concept of yin and yang was to show that each part has a small trace of the other within it, that they cannot be separated, for they are not that different after all. For they are also each other's perfect difference needed in the world."
I nodded, indicating he could continue. "I think we're like a lock and key. Without the other, we can't fully function, but when we touch, we can unlock the other's memories. It's not just you. Yes I remember more, but it affects me too." He seemed to kick his feet a bit at the admission. He blushed as if a bit shy.
I didn't know he could look so cute like that.
"So what do we do now? Hold hands all day?" I said, already nervous thinking about it. He shook his head. "No, don't force it. Let's just move at our own pace."
"What is our own pace?" I asked.
"I don't know either," he said back at me, but he slowly reached out and squeezed the back of my hand that was resting on the bench.
"I honestly don't know how to live life now. I have no clue what I am doing or what is happening," I confessed to him, hanging my head low.
I looked and was so stressed, unsure what path awaited. It didn't matter how many times I was trying to take this one step at a time, I clearly was an overthinker. He seemed to understand that, knowing me without my having needed to speak.
He patted my knee. "It's like being a teenager all over again, huh? Trying to figure out our purpose," he said gently with a laugh.
I nodded. "It sure is. I suppose I am not young enough to get to go to school til I figure it out, huh?"
"I am afraid not. I wish it would make everything more simple for us," he said, smiling at me. He looked down at my hand in concern. "Your hand is hot, like burning up." My hand was hot. I scrunched my forehead in confusion.
He put his hands up to my head. "You really are still feverish, like extremely. We need to get this taken care of." He looked concerned. It was just a cold, wasn't it?