A Meter Distance

Journal Entry No. 2

(The third page on Luthor's observation journal)

Journal Entry No. 2

Pre-observational notes for today's journal entry:

The subject showed positive behavior at having a prospective company, thus leading to the hypothesis that observationalist L.M. is the first person the subject communicated with for years.

No further information is present about the subject and requires further observation.

September 8, 2017

This was the day of my second meeting with the self-proclaimed half-human spirit of the forest. This is also the day when I decided to create an observation journal detailing the peculiarities surrounding her. But for that, I need to know her name. Upon asking her, she only shook her head and said none.

That is correct. The strange woman doesn't have a name. She says that spirits need not a name for they seem to be just—if I may quote her exact words—simplification and entrapment. I then argued that a person's name establishes their existence. Having a name doesn't make things simpler; rather, it gives the complexity of people and their environment a foothold.

After hearing my answer, she stared at me for quite some time. She gave me a pensive silence as we sat together on the gray picnic blanket I brought with me, leaving a meter distance to avoid skin contact with each other. Because of the way we're dressed—her in yesterday's cerulean outfit and I, in a blue polo shirt and cream khaki pants—it looked like we were just two teenagers enjoying a late-afternoon picnic.

Going back to the topic at hand, she told me that she acknowledges my point. Nevertheless, she still cannot find any merit in having a name because no one will call for her. The spirits that guided her cannot talk, she added when I stayed quiet. I noticed her voice getting smaller as if she just had a realization and then deeply regretted it because it was something she cannot achieve by herself.

I was in the same position. However, my epiphany isn't something to be depressed about nor is it unattainable.

Lost between Reality and a Lengthy Illusion, or in short, LoReLeI. The title of this observation journal is also the name I suggested to her. It is harsh, I am aware, but as someone who relies heavily on objective facts, I have to let her know my thoughts about her whole situation.

I was expecting to get a backlash, a disapproving look, or an angry accusation as the "name" seems like a direct challenge of her "halfness," but none of it came. Instead, she laughed.

I'm not sure if it's just because of the environment but her laugh sounded like it was part of nature itself. It blended perfectly with the sound of the steady waterfalls. At the same time, birds flew and chirped around us. For a second, I was inclined to believe that maybe she really is a legitimate spirit of this forest.

H̶e̶r̶ l̶a̶u̶g̶h̶ a̶l̶s̶o̶ f̶e̶l̶t̶ l̶i̶k̶e̶ c̶h̶a̶m̶o̶m̶i̶l̶e̶ t̶e̶a̶. I̶t̶ w̶a̶s̶ s̶w̶e̶e̶t̶ a̶n̶d̶ r̶e̶l̶a̶x̶i̶n̶g̶. Her laugh lasted for not more than a minute. She waved a hand at me as she muttered an apology upon calming down. I only stared at her with a blank expression, to which she returned with a flushed smile.

She says she loves the name. Unusually so. With enough fondness that makes it seem she had known the name for quite some time already.

I then couldn't help but question if she usually laughs at things that she loves. She shook her head once more. With a suppressed grin, she pointed at my head and told me that a butterfly had stuck on the side of my hair, making it seem like a have a hairpin of some sort. Combine that with my absolute blank and serious expression, she can't stop herself from bursting into laughter.