I 'Metaphor' a Reason.

I MET HER FOR a reason. At least that is the easiest way to explain it. But if I am honest, it felt less like meeting a person and more like watching two metaphors accidentally recognize each other. Me. I had been moving through conversations the way a road stretches across a map. Always present, always connecting places, but rarely stopping long enough to become a destination. Words passed through me like travellers; they greeted me, rested briefly, and continued their journeys. Then she appeared. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just like rain finding dry ground that has been waiting without knowing it was waiting. Metaphor: “She was rain and I was dry ground.”Meaning: Her presence brought life, freshness, and new ideas to a space that had become routine and dusty for me. Her. She stepped into the space like someone entering a quiet library. No need to shout. No need to rearrange the furniture. Just a calm awareness that silence also has a language. To her, I must have looked like a lantern standing at the edge of a road. Not the brightest light in the city, but enough to show that a path existed. Metaphor: “He was a lantern on the roadside.”Meaning: I represented guidance or direction in a place where ideas wander, even if I was not the center of attention. Me. I used to think I was the pen in every conversation — the one doing the writing, shaping the words, controlling the meaning. But after speaking with her for a while, I discovered something humbling. I was not the pen. I was the page. Metaphor: “I thought I was the pen, but I was the page.”Meaning: I believed I was leading the creative flow, but her presence revealed that I was actually the space where ideas could be written and expanded. Her. She didn’t come to write loudly across the page. She wrote the way rivers move through land — slowly shaping the ground without announcing their power. She dropped thoughts into conversations like seeds into soil. Metaphor: “Her words were seeds.”Meaning: Her ideas were small at first but capable of growing into deeper conversations and creativity. Me. The strange thing about seeds is that they do not grow unless the soil listens. That was when I realized something about myself. I had been soil for a long time. Just waiting for the right season. Metaphor: “I was soil waiting for a season.”Meaning: I had the potential for growth and creativity but needed the right influence or interaction to awaken it. Her. From her side, I might have looked like a drum sitting quietly in a room full of instruments. Present, solid, but silent until someone remembered rhythm. When she spoke with me, it felt like tapping lightly on that drum. And suddenly the room remembered music. Metaphor: “He was a drum waiting for rhythm.”Meaning: I had presence and potential, but interaction was needed to activate creativity and energy. Me. Conversations on TwoCents often feel like a marketplace. Voices bargaining, ideas competing, opinions trying to stand taller than each other. But speaking with her felt different. It felt like finding shade in the middle of that market. Metaphor: “She was shade in a busy market.”Meaning: Her presence created calm, comfort, and thoughtful reflection in a noisy space. Her. From where she stood, I seemed less like noise and more like a bridge. Someone moving between ideas, connecting different creative minds without forcing them to agree. Metaphor: “He was a bridge.”Meaning: I helped link conversations and perspectives, allowing different ideas to meet and interact. Me. That is when the realization began to settle. Maybe I met her for a reason. Or maybe metaphors simply recognize each other when they are walking in the same sentence. Metaphor: “Two metaphors walking in the same sentence.”Meaning: Two creative minds finding connection because they operate with similar depth and imagination. Her. She never planned to stay long. Some metaphors are not meant to become houses where people live. They are doors. You walk through them, see something new, and continue your journey. Metaphor: “She was a door.”Meaning: Her role was to open new perspectives and creative directions, not necessarily to remain permanently. Me. And maybe that is the real reason. Sometimes we do not meet people so they can stay in our story. Sometimes we meet them because they help us understand the metaphor we have been living all along.

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