l i v e
I think part of the reason why we hold on so tight is because we're afraid something great won't happen again
"I feel bad for the people that never go crazy."She said.
"Why is that?"I asked.
"You learn a lot and you live a little, you think more and talk less, you love forever and never forget."She whispers. "You begin to hear music clearly and tune out bullshit. You understand writings and poetry and don't waste time on deciphering texts from that one person everyone has in their life. You come to terms with being broken and realize that, sometimes, you don't always need to be fixed."
I took the time to look at her. She was beautiful and insane. She was living, breathing poetry. Anyone that read her had a different take on her, a different meaning. Yet, in reality, she was just a girl in a grey sweater and black skinny jeans who didn't think she was worth anything.
She was crazy.
"Shut up and look at the moon."She smiled, her gaze now lifted from her lap to the sky. Her eyes glued to the large, bright planet in lighting up the night for us. "It's beautiful."
"Yeah."I replied lamely, not knowing what else to say.
"I love looking at the moon, especially when I'm sad."She said quietly. "Because I know that someone else out there is looking at it, too, feeling just as lonely and sad."
There was always something about the way she spoke. It's like she could articulate things in ways that made people think, but when it came to normal conversation, she froze up. It amazed me and confused me all at once. It never made sense... And I guess I now know why.
We sat in silence for a while, her gaze set on the sky and mine set on her.
"Are you okay?"I asked her in a whisper, my voice came out gentle and soft.
"Okay."I said, yet I knew she wasn't.
"I know I changed. That was the point."