corner apartment

she cried for the first time since she could remember. that's a lie. she cried often, not long before bed. since she left home she realized she hasn't felt love the way she used to or the way it is in movies. not that this is what she wanted. secretly she wanted something more, a kind of love that can't be captured on screen or in words, something that can't even be called love; a happiness that makes you wish for death. without this everything seemed petty and mundane, as it was. this is why she cried.

the boys who said they loved her are gone now and even further are the ones who didn't bother. it's true most people are just a reach away, but a reach can flurry into thousands of miles when stubbornness and bitterness take shape. the stubborn belief that running away from the past will bring happiness and the bitterness that disallows old scars to heal properly. after years begin to pass a reach to some seems just impossible. and why bother, especially knowing they never loved her like she wanted. if they did, it wouldn't be like this. a world with a love like that would be a different world. a world where fading loves leave no trace. a place where we can depend on our lives having a purpose and that purpose coinciding with our happiness. at the resolution of this goal we die, not a moment later. that she couldn't have this was something she'd known most of her life, but this was little consolation. eventually she'd fall asleep.