The mediocrity that is me
2002-11-15 11:19:56 (UTC)

Falling part 2

Can you blame a girl for falling down?

It was an accident. She didn't mean to, swore that she'd
pay attention this time, make a concsious effort to avoid
the inevitable falling. She'd fallen before, and knew
that part well; the skinned knees, the stubbed toe, the
broken bones

The broken heart.

Somewhere along the way, she stopped forcing herself to
remember. She got caught up in that moment where reality
meets fantasy, at that point when they sat watched the
stars, and made a wish on the shooting one, and it was
night and cold-but-not-too-cold, no one was around for
miles and he turned and grabbed her hand, and then the
snow fell softly, danced around them in swirls, and the
music played and he pulled her close, stared into her eyes
and kissed her, deep and long and full of passion like you
would not believe...

It was perfection; she forgot that it was never going to
be real, forgot that it was only a movie, forgot that she
swore she'd never fall again.

Suddenly it ended. The curtains closed.

The invevitable happened and she lay there, broken and
bleeding on the cement. Last night's snow had turned to
slush. The wind was freezing and whipped around her face, chapped
her lips, and she couldn't get up.

She was frozen with lonlieness. No one cared.

But she swore that this time, it would be different. She was
different --- stronger. She reached her hand out in the darkness,
whispering softly for help, hoping that someone would grab her
outstretched hand and help her up.

And someone did.

Someone gave her a shoulder to cry on. Someone lifted her up when
she was down. Someone loved her. And all she ever had to do was
ask for a little help.

You can't blame a girl for living, falling, and hurting. She just
has to realize that she never has to do it all alone.