Changin'
1/1
We were walking down the street, holding hands. It was a bright day, the sun was shining, clear blue skies. Birds were out and singing cheerfully. It all seemed so perfect. There weren’t that many people walking about or cars driving by.
It was quiet. Not an eerie silence, nor an awkward silence, but rather a comfortable one. Neither of us said anything, for nothing was to be said.
So there we were, walking. We weren’t going anywhere in particular. Lex wanted to get out. “It’s too stuff in the house,” she said. I agreed, and there we were. I personally enjoyed just staying in my room chatting, but I didn’t want to upset her. She’s been a bit depressed lately, so I’ve just remained by her side, doing what I thought would be best for her.
We were standing at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. I looked over at Lex. Her soft brown hair covered her face from my view, but I knew those hazel eyes were staring off into the distance, looking but not seeing. The ribbons intertwined in her hair drooped sadly, their knots coming undone with each swish.
She had changed her style. Before, she wore more dresses and skirts, with intense flowery patterns. She wore a lot of bright colors. She wore what most girls around her were wearing, but in a very self-respecting sort of way. She reflected how she seemed: bright, cheerful, happy.
But now she converted to more casual clothes. Converse, jeans, and a tank top with a button down was what she has worn every day. Most of her clothes seem quite big for her, drowning her small frame. She was already tiny, so her black tops and her mass of newly dyed black hair didn’t help.
Everything about her has changed, not just her clothes. She’s quieter. She used to be more gregarious. Her bubbly laughter could be heard everywhere. Now she hardly laughed. She smiles on occasion, but now more painful smiles. I’ve tried to help. I’ve done everything I thought would make her happy. But I don’t know what to do now.
“Just stay with me,” is her response whenever I tell her how I feel. She would then hug me tightly and kiss me on the cheek. She might even smile, but it was one of those painful smiles. And I would smile back down at her, equally sad, and say, “Ok. I can do that.”
The light changed. We continued down on our way. I felt Lex grip my fingers tighter. I looked over at her, but she was looking forward, away from me. I looked away, but gently squeezed her hand back. I knew she looked up at me. I just didn’t want to see her eyes.
When we came upon this park she and I used to visit often, she lightly tugged for me to follow her. I obliged, And soon enough found myself pushing her on the swing.
She was laughing.
It was quiet. Not an eerie silence, nor an awkward silence, but rather a comfortable one. Neither of us said anything, for nothing was to be said.
So there we were, walking. We weren’t going anywhere in particular. Lex wanted to get out. “It’s too stuff in the house,” she said. I agreed, and there we were. I personally enjoyed just staying in my room chatting, but I didn’t want to upset her. She’s been a bit depressed lately, so I’ve just remained by her side, doing what I thought would be best for her.
We were standing at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. I looked over at Lex. Her soft brown hair covered her face from my view, but I knew those hazel eyes were staring off into the distance, looking but not seeing. The ribbons intertwined in her hair drooped sadly, their knots coming undone with each swish.
She had changed her style. Before, she wore more dresses and skirts, with intense flowery patterns. She wore a lot of bright colors. She wore what most girls around her were wearing, but in a very self-respecting sort of way. She reflected how she seemed: bright, cheerful, happy.
But now she converted to more casual clothes. Converse, jeans, and a tank top with a button down was what she has worn every day. Most of her clothes seem quite big for her, drowning her small frame. She was already tiny, so her black tops and her mass of newly dyed black hair didn’t help.
Everything about her has changed, not just her clothes. She’s quieter. She used to be more gregarious. Her bubbly laughter could be heard everywhere. Now she hardly laughed. She smiles on occasion, but now more painful smiles. I’ve tried to help. I’ve done everything I thought would make her happy. But I don’t know what to do now.
“Just stay with me,” is her response whenever I tell her how I feel. She would then hug me tightly and kiss me on the cheek. She might even smile, but it was one of those painful smiles. And I would smile back down at her, equally sad, and say, “Ok. I can do that.”
The light changed. We continued down on our way. I felt Lex grip my fingers tighter. I looked over at her, but she was looking forward, away from me. I looked away, but gently squeezed her hand back. I knew she looked up at me. I just didn’t want to see her eyes.
When we came upon this park she and I used to visit often, she lightly tugged for me to follow her. I obliged, And soon enough found myself pushing her on the swing.
She was laughing.