#goodbye

Today I completely broke down.

It wasn’t until I realized I was doing it in the middle of a traffic jam, with the questioning “What happened?” eyes of the driver in the car next to me fixed on me, that I grabbed my sunglasses and slid them onto my nose—so no one would have any more questions.

This morning.

While waiting in traffic.

The news reached me that MY MUSE had passed away.

For the first time, I realized I was crying over someone I had never even met.

She radiated joy for life—energetic, always smiling, endlessly active, seemingly ready to move mountains.

I don’t watch television regularly, but whenever I happened to come across her, I would always stop and listen.

Because listening to her felt good.

Because after hearing her speak, something inside me would come alive with a renewed joy for living.

To keep going.

To keep creating.

Not to grow weary.

Not to give up.

Her thoughts were like seeds that found their way into my mind through my ears.

Once they took root, they would begin to sprout, blossom, and bloom.

One day, I listened to an interview with her.

The journalist asked:

“Zita, with everything you do and how busy you are, don’t you ever run out of time for yourself?”

She answered with words that I remind myself of whenever I long for solitude, silence, and peace—when I’m exhausted by the noise of work and home:

“I don’t like my own company enough to want it to be just the two of us.
When there are so many wonderful people around, being alone with myself simply doesn’t seem as appealing.”
I never knew her.

But deep down, I always wanted to become a little more like someone…

…who overflowed with life so powerfully.

V.