So I had this weird episode today, so I'm kinda building off what I'd scribbled during the time. I also finished reading Every Day by David Levithan. A lot of the ideas are inspired by him and his writing style.
He's hurting. She's hurting. Yet their hearts are far apart.
Is it mirrored pain? Paralleled feelings of isolation and loneliness? Neither of them knows; they know little of each other. To her, he's a face she's always seen. A friendly person—perhaps a friend...or more with time. To him, she's the girl that always catches his eye. He always finds himself seeing her even in a crowd. His eyes wander, but they always fall on her. She doesn't notice that.
She especially can't notice now, for all she can feel is the tightness in her chest. Her heart is being squeezed tighter and tighter by an invisible force. Everything is bleeding blood red, yet all inside her is numb. Chest heaving; shallow breaths; thoughts swirling and swirling; spiraling lower and lower.
His pain is dark: smoke of grey surrounding his very being. He feels trapped, yet he's not trapped on Earth. He feels as though he's in a foreign land—far away. His body is here; his soul is not.
Their minds whirl with thoughts, each memory and idea crashing and colliding until it's all a blurry mess of muddled grey. They only see grey. Destined to find one another yet too lost to search.
She finally screams, unable to take the deafening silence any longer. She screams until her lungs physically cannot expel any more air. Her throat feels raw from the violent sounds she made. Yet her heart feels lighter. Somehow, the grey is slightly further away. The feelings, the thoughts, they still linger, yet they linger in the recesses of her mind.
She stands. She nearly passes out, her vision blurring and darkening for a moment. She freezes, and her vision returns. She sees clearly. Her computer remains open in front of her, the camera covered due to her paranoia. She stares at the black screen.
He comes to mind. His bright purple hair and infectious giggle. The way his eyes light up whenever he talks about things he's passionate about. She doesn't know why she's thinking about him, but she is. She lets herself think about him. The way he smiles, how white and perfect his teeth are, how long his eyelashes are, how beautiful his two different-colored eyes are, and everything in between.
She looks at her computer and finally sits down at her desk. Pressing the return key to bring her computer to life, she opens her mail. She finds herself typing in his name. Awsten Knight.
They had worked together on a school project one time. That's the only reason she knows his address. She's grateful for that time.
She doesn't stop to think: she just writes what feels right.
I know we haven't spoken much, but I just had this urge to write to you. I think things like that have some sort of meaning, so I'm going and actually doing it. Would you like to meet sometime tomorrow? Maybe we could grab some Starbucks. I know you love Starbucks.
She doesn't think of how completely un-thought-out it sounds. That's the truth. That's her truth in this moment. So she doesn't care. She sends it. She hopes he sees it.
A few neighborhoods over, Awsten is still lying in bed, feeling empty and numb. He hears his phone make a noise. He doesn't look at it. He wants to, but he doesn't. He lets himself wallow in his own misery for a while more before finally grabbing his phone. It's an email from her. His heart skips a beat.
He quickly opens up the email and reads. The fact that she remembers something so unimportant yet important about him just makes him smile. Suddenly, he feels like he's back on Earth. There's a string pulling him back, and on the other end of that line is her.
He responded to her immediately, so they set up a time. They meet in the nearby Starbucks.
She smiles when she sees him; his heart lifts when he sees her.
"Hey," she says.
"Hey," he says.
They smile, looking into each other's eyes. They don't say anything more for a moment; they don't have to. Their eyes speak for them. They say more than words could in that moment.
"How are you?" He breaks the silence.
"Better," she replies. "You?"
"Better," he says as well.
She smiles, and he returns the smile. Some remain believing in past. Some believe in the future. But these two, they believe in the present. They believe that right now, things are good. Things are okay. And that's enough for them—no matter what the future may hold.
I know that was a little different
but I went through something weird this morning, and then I just went and read Every Day
David Levithan's writing is honestly so beautiful. The book is amazing, and his writing always inspires me.
So this is a result of that.