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She smiled softly. He had been threatened by a boy she knew close to nothing about. But he opened up to her. A sense of concern. She in turn opened to him. The boy was almost like she, or just seemed to truly understand. Perverted minds twist endless words. But the new boy was not a feeling of romanticism. But genuine conditional love, the kind that isn't cheap, but that of a sibling...or friend. Through the ups and downs. She had one more to empathize with. No cheap sympathy. No more unanswered questions...or the ones that mattered anyway...She washed her face. She didn't bother to paint it that next morning. It was fake. The facade of the lies. She tried it. Just once. She had come to understand she too didn't understand the whole make-up. It covered flaws. But it didn't correct them. She found the treasures she held onto for the time as memories of her happiness. But it's not real happiness if it is bought with the cheap toys and gifts to woo her. It was his make-up. His cover up. She tossed them out. He made so much sense. But she felt so...stupid. She'd only wished that she could help him as much as he helped her.
 Made27 · Wed Apr 06, 2005 @ 09:59pm · 2 Comments |
