“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
it hurt when I stumbled across her. she was like broken glass all along the floor. but it was beautiful and my curiosity got the best of me. I remember looking at her and all I could see was pain. she had this insane look of desperation; you could almost feel it. and yet her eyes were still hollow; like the life had been sucked out of her. I wanted to pick up her pieces. I wanted to put her back together. and so I tried. I really did. I got a little cut along the way. the more I tried to fix her the more fragile I became myself but I didn’t care. I wanted to see her happy. every time I made her laugh I thought about how I wanted to make her laugh forever. she was getting better. eventually she was put together enough to get up and walk away. but she didn’t take me with her. and I’ve been stuck sitting here where I first found her. wondering if the pieces left on the floor are hers or mine. I should probably get the fuck up.
oh my fucking god
This is amazing yet it terrifies me all the same. I keep feeling like I am always the one abandoned in the floor.