She was different.

She was different. She was illogical, and maybe that’s what attracted him to her. She was completely random. A cliché ‘free spirit’. Only he knew it was just an act. She behaved that way so people would make snap judgments about her, and never get to know who she really was, because they thought they knew her already.

But he loved her anyway. The way she moved, the way she talked. All these things communicated to him, spoke to him in ways that he thought were only possible in fairy tales. She was something to be adored, something to be respected, something to be cherished and loved. He didn’t want to possess her, he wanted her to possess him. He was ready to give his life, his love, his heart to her, if she just said the word and accepted.

But she didn’t. She only saw him as a ‘friend’. The eternal curse of being a ‘nice guy’. There was nothing remarkable about him, except his love for her. And she thought there was something wrong with him for loving her the way he did. She couldn’t accept the love he offered. It should have been for someone more deserving. But you are deserving, he said. You of all people know what this love means and how important it is. What you know, what you can sense, the fact that you understand all of this. That’s what makes you deserving. Not what you’ve done in the past, not what you’re going to do after all of this. You can see the preciousness of everything. The value in love itself. Through your wounds, your eyesight has been honed to a burning sharpness. You can see love as if it was a tangible thing. Your past is what makes your sight so good. And because you can see so clearly, you deserve to have love given to you. Not because of who you were then, or even yesterday, but because of who you are NOW.

He didn’t know if she understood what he was saying. It was hard to read her sometimes. She seemed to be able to hear him, and then sometimes her ears would fall off and he would have to spend all night trying to find them. He’d crawl along the floor amongst the used cigarette butts and beer bottle caps that cut into his hands if he wasn’t careful. When he found them he was all ecstatic and carried them back to her. But by then she was on the dance floor and didn’t want them anyway. Even after he spent all that time looking for them. And that hurt worst of all. The way she rejected the gift, dismissed it as if it was nothing. As if he was nothing. He didn’t know if she really felt that way, or was it all part of the game.

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