She can't explain it. Why tea tastes different when it's not in the right mug. Why she has some warm and nostalgic association with the smell of tobacco smoke even though no one she's loved or lived with has ever been a smoker. How a walk in the woods can unknot and unleash every hard thing in her. How it can make her feel completely at peace or bring her to tears. Why she never has a handkerchief when she needs one.
She can't explain why she loves dying leaves and wet pavement. How a lemon-tinged sunset in a pearl winter sky reminds her of turning 12. How she got to be so round when she used to be so lanky. Why it doesn't bother her anymore.
She can't explain why she reads her horoscope when it never rings true. Why she owns a deck of fortune cards. Why she woke up one Sunday and realized she'd never go to church again.
She can't explain what she hopes to find when she checks her e-mail. What she is looking for on social networks. The way she can be so loquacious one day and so reserved the next. How she'd rather live without a phone than live without her camera. Why it's so easy to cut some things loose without regret or debate and so hard to let others go.