The Night We Met
I was lying in my bed with my covers to my ears as you first came onto the screen playing behind my shut eyelids. You were adorable, it's true, but only I could see the small fireflies of anxiety that tickled your stomach. It's funny how you never let them bother you, though. They'd flutter their sparkly wings with all their might, and yet your face remained calm.
The dress you wore was my favorite, and the shoes you wore had no scuff marks. Everything about you was in place, just like the photo. Your hair sat gently in two braids with their white ribbons at the end. Even your face was together. There were no stains, no tears, and no crumbs. You were beautiful. You looked perfect. And that's how you looked every night you visited me. It was nice. I'd close my eyes tight and you'd be there with our walks to the place of quiet and peace. You always kept me calm with your sweet smile. If I felt ready to scream or cry you would dance, twirl, and hum to keep me quiet. Quiet just like you.
It was nice what we had.
I'm not going to lie. I think about the night we met, a lot.
