Less Than Perfect

I remember she said there could be only less than perfect, for if something was truly perfect, then there was something wrong with it. I remember not understanding, not caring, because as far as I knew, she was perfect.

The apple at the top of the tree, the sweetest one I could never reach, finally fell, and I was not around to catch it. I will miss her, the girl in the green, and I can take solace only in the fact that my life is now beginning.

When she danced, I could not have her. I dreamed about thinking about her, and when I thought about her, my very life became a dream. Yes, oh yes, I knew she was perfect.

When she cried, I could not help her. She saved me, the girl in the green. She carried the darkness out of my cell, while I curled cravenly in the corner. She held me like she loved me, and for a second, I believed it. For that second, I knew all the world had stopped to witness love, love it had never seen before. But then she let go, and my arms passed through her like smoke...falling...and I could only watch.

Closing the book before the sad ending does not give it a happy ending. Now it's just a sad book without an ending, and isn't that the saddest of all? Hypothetically, of course...


ML,
I wasn't in the mood. What's to be done if you just aren't in the mood? Nothing.