Her words make me think. It's like reading art, and it captures me in a way that's different from anything I've read before. She makes me want to paint my own words.
She doesn't know me very well.
There's another.
She has silver hair that she parts into two little buns on her head. When I'm around her I don't want to leave. She makes you feel smart. She makes you feel important. Laughing turns to tears when I'm with her. Probably more than anyone else. She spoke about the vulnerability of words that placed perfectly the feelings that were floating around in my head.
I remember when we weren't really friends. She was too cool and wore clothes that I could never dream of pulling off. Now someday we will have a band and we will wear holographic dresses. And shoes. And our hair will be white.
There's another.
When you think of her you can't help thinking of a bright color. Pink. Yellow maybe. I miss seeing her gigantic smile. We laugh uncontrollably about things that don't make sense to anyone else. Like random serious scenes from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.
I emailed her like I was texting her this week. Random things that I thought were funny. She'll see them today I hope. Ohio's lucky to have such a brilliant piece of sunshine.
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