The Girl Who Wasn't There...
2003-08-18 @ 1:59 a.m.
He said I wasn't real, so I waved a hand in front of his eyes, but he couldn't see me. At least he said he couldn't. He spoke to the air. He spoke to me. He spoke to the girl who wasn't there.
We laughed at the thought of forever, and he asked how long I've been around. Fourteen years, I told him, but he didn't believe me. He said I've only been around for three days. He said he's only been imagining me for three days.
What if... he said, and wondered if I could walk through walls. He pushed me against one. For a moment there, I almost disappeared. For a moment there, I wanted to hurt him. Anger was the only emotion I could muster, and the only reason I had for kicking him. I kicked him, but he didn't feel it. I wasn't there.
...and the people on the streets gave him funny looks. There goes the boy who talks to himself.
...and the people on the streets felt sorry for him.
...and what these people didn't know was the he felt sorry for them.
Not everyone was as fortunate as he. Not everyone had a girl. But not just any girl, his girl. The girl who wasn't there.
...and we walked on, side by side, trapped in our world. The lonely boy and the girl who wasn't there, walking on our side of the wall.
Listening to: Myself think...
everything © Claudia (2003-2008)