She Was the Smoke.

I took a deep breath in, allowing my lungs to expand and fill with air. I held it there for a moment, as the bright embers of the joint glowed, illuminating my face in the darkness. Slowly, I let the breath go; watching at the musky smelling smoke curled and rose to the clouds.

“When I die, I hope I become smoke.” Her voice said, sounding distant. Sitting up on my arms, I stared forward. I hardly made out her silhouette in the night, but even in the darkness you could see her curves. Slowly, the shape slid down the playground slide and crawled towards me on the dewy grass.

“Smokes not alive.” I muttered, staring toward. Leisurely, I brought the smoke to my lips, allowing it to crawl over my body once again. A dry wind blew by, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. My body felt warm though, and I could feel myself heating the closer she got to me.

Eventually, she made it to me. She lay down next to me, as I slid back down to my back. “I’m not alive either.” She whispered, untying her hair. I was immediately greeted with the strong smell of weed, vanilla, and mint. My stomach turned as she reached her small, tanned hand towards me. She delicately slid the joint in between her fingers.

Expertly, she breathed out the smoke towards the sky and we watched it float away together. In the distance, I could hear the honking on horns on the highway, and the crickets in the forest. Although, nothing seemed to be able to touch us in that moment. We were somewhere completely different than our boring town.

We sat in what seemed like an endless silence. It wasn’t necessarily awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable. Nothing with her was comfortable. With a snap of your fingers, she would be gone again. It was impossible to keep her here with you, but in the moment, she was.

Gracefully, she passed it back as I brought it up to my lips again. I pretended like the lipstick stained end was actually her lips on mine and I almost fooled myself.

“Ask me a question.” She mumbled, staring up at the smoky cloud above us, watching it mingle with the stars, just like she wished she could do.

I thought long and hard about this. You see, I had been trying to find her mind and catch it just long enough to peek inside, but the problem was, she was always running. She was running from me, from herself, from anyone.

“Tell me your guilty pleasure.” I whispered into the darkness. There was something about the busy wildlife that caused you to whisper.

“I don’t feel guilty about any of my pleasures.” She uttered back, her voice soft as she took a hit. Slowly, the stick burned into nothingness, leaving only embers behind in its memory.

I was hit with worry. This was what kept her here, stationed.

Suddenly, a crack came from the forest around us. I glanced at it, already panicky about her potential departure. I glanced back at her, but she seemed unfazed. Instead of staring at the forest, her fingers played with the sticks and grass around her.

“Don’t be so jumpy. I heard that the forest is safest at night.” She paused, glancing at me. The red veins that decorated her eyes seemed to light her dark brown orbs. “It’s when all the danger is sleeping. That leaves you with only your imagination. Although, I think that is the most dangerous thing.” She trailed out.

Carefully, she rolled onto her stomach and faced me. I followed her lead, allowing us to grow close. Our faces were inches away from each other, and I could smell the smoke on her breath. She bit her lip, rolling it around her teeth. As she let it slide back, it was left with bite marks. I wondered if she did that often.

Carefully, I took my hands and laid them down over hers. They were cold, and her eyes locked with mine. They were wide, but empty. They were vast and I bet they once were crossed with thousands of emotions, but none were there.

I had never met such an emotionless female. Every girl says they don’t have emotions, but she actually didn’t. It was so scary, and appealing. I think I needed her because she didn’t need me.

She was not my girlfriend. On the other hand, she wasn’t just a friend either. Instead, our relationship was elastic, stretching between those two extremes depending on who was around, how much either of us had to drink, and other varying factors.

This was exactly what I wanted at first, as commitments had never really been my thing, and it wasn’t like it was hard, either. The only trick was never giving more than you were willing to lose.

The only problem was that the more I smoked, the more I gave, and the more she took. I found her broken, and I tried to fix her. Only now, our broken pieces mingled and I now had no idea whose glass was decorating the floor. Finally, I found myself giving it all I had, which I seemed to of already lost.

Instead of worrying about this though, we were glued in the moment. With her hands under mine, and the embers still burning out, I lost the silhouette of her body as the night got darker.

We were never in love, but oh god, we could have been.