The girl who listens

The room is green. And she has headphones on. When she listens, she thinks to herself, someday, I'm going to write a song like this. And it will be beautiful and I won't have to carry around the meaning of it anymore. She listens.

"Be my friend. Hold me."

She knows she is tired. That it's probably the lack of sleep that is making her sad. But this acknowledgement of reality, however acurate, doesn't do much to remedy the situation. The song comes to an end and she puts it on repeat. She feels her eyes filling up, again. She sucks in breath and says to herself, No, you are not going to cry. You are going to get up and go be happy. You are not going to think about a boy walking down the street in the rain. You are not going to think about the things that you would say, the words that line up in your head, impatient. You are not going to think about what you are missing. About what you failed to do.

"I have done it again. I have been here many times before."

Even though she is only thinking to herself, she still feels embarrassed for being so dramatic. But then again, she reasons, love is supposed to be embarassing. Especially when it sneaks up on you and you remember again. Because now, she remembers what it is like to love his hands and to laugh without obligation. I sound silly, she thinks. But that's alright.

"Lost myself again. And I feel unsafe"

She goes back to listening. She sees that face in her head, the one she thought she couldn't remember and this time she lets herself cry.

Someday she will write a song about it, and everything will be okay.