You might have desperately tried to shield your face from the sudden upwelling of emotion. You might feel as if spontaneously being pierced by wandering eyes seeking out the source of your shame. You might immediately wander off as if to confuse the self that was seconds ago remorselessly weeping.
Regardless of what you, the nakedness, your emotions laid bare, thoughts strewn across the ground from the blubbering mouth which they emerged, perhaps still spewing uncontrollably...
you want to end whatever conversation you were just having about “Yeah, I’m fine, thanks”.
Except, now it’s apparent. You are far from it. Something has welled to the surface. Big or small, you could care less. Whatever perverse stoicism or timid small talk you engaged in is the skin you immediately shed.
Catharsis would be unfair on them. After all, that’s why you might have crossed paths with them in the first place. Out returning from a late night walk, where the light from the stairwell barely illuminates their figure. Answering the door, after a loud morning workout disturbed the calmness that lingered throughout the adjacent apartment. The last thing you wanted was human contact.
Or, so you thought. However your interaction ended, your sheer nakedness, your true condition, your cognitive dissonance now laid bare, is cathartic. You might recognise a wanting within you. Something has to be done.
What that something is, is what someone you barely know brought out from within you.