"What's this ticklish feeling?"

"Cold," I said. "It's natural."

"And this?" She pointed at her heart.

"That's your heart beating," I responded. "It's also natural."

And so it went, me explaining to her how everything is just a natural part of being human. Things we deem normal, mundane even, yet fresh and confusing for Rosie. Like any human, more questions arise when we find ourselves engulfed in uncertainty, always looking for answers as we are tangled in a myriad of emotions.

"And this?" She pointed to a drop of tear still dangling over the corner of her eyes, and I could feel it seeping through my shirt as she leaned against me, her head on my shoulder.

"That, is what we call a tear."

"So I am sad? And this is sadness?"

"There's also something called tears of joy."

"But how do I know which is which? Am I crying because I am sad? Or because I am happy?"

"Well, we also tend to smile if that's a tear of joy."

She then gave out a silly grin.

"No, not like that," I smiled. "Like this."

She smiled.

"I like how I used to answer your questions all the time," she said. "And now it's your turn."

That got me thinking.

"We are humans. We ask questions," I managed to give a semi-philosophical answer after a good few seconds. "And that also makes you human."

There we were. Our first time at the pier, looking out at the great north sea. I used to tell her how beautiful it is — the peace. The calmness. The gentle breeze at times. This was our first stop after I drove her from the lab, and I couldn't think of a better spot.

"Why I couldn't stop crying?" she asked absentmindedly, eyes staring into the blue horizon, seemingly lost in her thoughts.

"Because we feel things," I said. "I used to cry a lot when I was a kid. My friends would make fun of me."

"But I stopped. When I got older," I added. "Doesn't matter if I am sad or happy, I just couldn't cry."

"Is that a good thing?" she turned towards me.

"I don't know."

"I guess that's one answer we need to find out together," she smiled.

"Yes. We will."