“I would rather die, than for us to be apart.”
“You can't fix me, I'm torn apart.”
“I'm not a car you can fix, I'm never gonna run right.”
“Life is so hard, it hurts like hell! Forget about everything and run away.”
“So I'll watch you life in pictures, like I used to watch you sleep, and I'll feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe.”
Brief glimpses of reality. A girl sitting on the floor, staring out in the air, not seeing anything.
“I know it's gonna take some time, to finally realize I got nothing left inside. I'm broken.”
The girl is now laughing in a group of friends, but if you look closely, you can see the tears in her eyes isn't just from the laughter. The pain and agony is buried for now, but not deep, and in her gray eyes, the color of the sky just before a huge storm, you see how she's burning inside.
“Pretend I'm okay with it all. Act like there's nothing wrong. Is it over yet? Can I open my eyes? Is this as hard as it gets? Is this what it feels like to really cry?”
Those brief glimpses speed up, and rush by like a wild river.
The girl laughing, the girl crying.
The girl smiling, the girl screaming.
The girl saying: “I'm okay.” The girl desperately yelling “Make it stop!”
Words like liar, deceiver, pathetic, freak, run along with the glimpses.
“I can go home to my love, and live the life I've always wanted. Or I can go on, running of into the night, lonely and haunted. And the strange thing is, I don't know which I prefer...”
Choices. So many choices, flying around her, curling and twisting in the air. How will she ever pick one path, when a thousand are there just before her, only waiting for her to step onto them.
“Still she'd write time to time, she would manage a smile, while her hope floated away in the breeze.”
The only logical choice is the shortest path, straight through the air from a skyscraper. And still she doesn't take that road. Still she keeps going down the path of opportunities, watching miserable life, after miserable life, develop before her eyes.
And then suddenly, there is a path, shining with a soft, purple light. She peeks down the small road, only a humble shortcut through the trees that are closing around the highroad of possibilities. And there she finds something wonderful. It isn't perfect, but it's a life as a writer, the thing that she does best, the only thing no one, and no one at all can take away from her. And she is happy. Maybe not all the time, 'cause nobody is, but there are short moments of joy, small cracks of sunlight in the night-sky.
“You've been left with nothing as a child, it's a lot to carry. You've been empty-handed all your life, a heavy weight to carry. Things could be different, but it wouldn't be the same. You wouldn't be the girl I love without this weight. 'Cause all these years, feeling small and misplaced. The only lonely girl on Noah's ark.
And all these years, dealing with radioactive waste, has made you glow in the dark.”
“So if your just a dreamer, then I'll be the realist darling, I'm a deceiver. Take you too far, then let go. Say you believe me, but I'm a deceiver, that tied us together, cut the ropes.”
The girl needs to cut the ropes, the band that hold her to her past, to fully embrace her future. And she knows. Finally she faced reality, and what she saw was both beautiful and terrifying. So many things she'd left out.
Now she laughs, no agony behind her eyes, and now she cries without feeling like there will never be tears enough in the world.
“She took all sorts of polaroid pictures, and watched them develop in her head. And she likes them so much, oh look, but don't touch. And she puts them away, for some other day.”
Now there is another day, and the future ain't as black as it seemed, just weeks earlier. There is reason to create. Reason to save. Reason to be.
So that's what the girl do.
That's what I'll do.