According to The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, the word sonder describes "the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own." In short, it refers to the acknowledgement that every person you pass on the street, sit alongside in class, or see on FaceBook as a friend you might know, is living his or her own life just as you are living yours. They have friends, family, relationships, and events that take place in their day to day that you do not realize so long as you are too busy working through your own web of intricacies.

I would like to acknowledge these faceless passerbys and introduce myself.

Hello, I sincerely hope that you are well.

Of course, I do not know precisely what is currently taking place in your life at the moment. I do not know what you do for a living, who your best friend is, or what you hope for the future. We met only in passing on a crowded city street corner when we were headed in different directions to different locations in our different lives. I was too busy looking at the directions on my phone to see you, and you did not even look my way.

Odds are we will never meet again. That the only role I will ever occupy in your life is my spot across the restaurant where I was having dinner with my family and you were with your significant other. I never heard your voice and you never heard mine, but perhaps you saw me leave when you turned your head to see if the waiter was coming with your food yet. I wonder what you ordered.

Just as you are a mere figure, more often than not, in the blurred background of what I perceive to be the greater chaos of my life, I am likely the same to you. It is certainly odd and humbling when put into the perspective that everything I think is so earth-shattering in my existence means nothing to you. You will never grasp the way my social circle works, nor will I be given the chance to understand your morning routine and whether you brush your teeth before or after you style your hair.

I wish that I could know you, to study you, to dissect everything that makes your life your own. I find it a shame that I will likely never have the chance to do so, because we are so far removed in time and space, in a world so populated and congested with lights, sounds, and other human beings. I wish that I could come to know you and see the inside of your life, but I accept the fact that I can only imagine you and you can exist furthermore only in my dreams.

In another life, in another time and a different place, perhaps we met and grew closer than the strangers we are and will proceed to be. In any case, I will continue in my own life, and I hope that yours is successful in whatever relative meaning that holds for you.