Sometimes I wish I could just disappear. I wish I could be someone else… I wish I could be that person. I wish I could be that person again, but I think I’ve lost that opportunity with the loss of communication with her.
Like a mirage, she was there one minute and then gone with a blink of an eye. It was like trying to hold onto smoke, she just slipped right out of my grasp. Bright and happy, her nervous energy and shy eyes brought out a side of myself I never knew existed.
All that talk of thinking about me all the time, and she forgets me! She must have been exaggerating and just said she was thinking about me, in that moment. If it weren't for her caring personality and sweetness I would be angry. In fact, I really don’t care a lick about it, about her. Or do I?
I remember her smile, ever constant and ever beaming at me. It was as if she wanted to make everyone around her happy all at once and she could.
But she would be so quiet sometimes, watching with those intent eyes. Those eyes; they would look up at me when they thought that I wasn't looking and then look away quickly as they met mine. Just in that instant look I could see the deepest of hope.
It gave me a weird satisfaction when I knew she liked me, when her mother told me how she really felt. The thought that anyone could feel that way about me made me think that, I might possibly not be as hated as I thought.
She accepted me for who I was, I could see that in her eyes as she listened to me talk about myself. Before, I had met so much judgment from everyone around me, but she just listened and soaked it all in.
Am I ever going to meet another person like her? Sometimes I hope not, for she saw right through me as if she had x-ray vision. She could see when I wasn’t myself, when something was wrong. Her maternal stare would see my exhaustion, and she wasn’t afraid to point it out.
How silly it all was. Playing with her, and spending time with her family. She could be such a child sometimes. How can someone be so mature and play like a child? It doesn’t make any sense. Laughing with her felt so dream-like. How silly it was, those silences where neither one of us knew what to say. She of course would say something first, and it would always be a question about me. I’ve never known anyone so intrigued to hear about another person. She would look disappointed if you didn’t have anything interesting to say.
That girl. If I had time, maybe I would have loved her the way she wanted me to. She moved so fast though, in everything she did she was fast. She would talk fast, type fast, walk fast, act fast, change moods fast, and bring up conversations quickly. She would open the door for me, but then quickly shut it in my face, as if afraid that I might say something she might not like. Our friendship happened too quickly, too fast for comfort, and she ran ahead, head first. If she had slowed down, I would have caught up.
I wish it didn’t end this way. As quickly as it had begun, our conversations stopped. She’s a fleeting memory that I think of from time to time. It’s a relief, honestly, not having to worry any longer.
Maybe if I had had time--but I didn’t and now she’s gone.
I’ll let her be. She is just a fleeting memory.