Their eyes met, whilst their lips departed with a warm good-bye. She had been waiting all day to see him, to breathe him. She always wonders what’s going through his mind. Her eyes holding back nothing less than a cry for help. She was happy to know him, she begged for his ever lasting taste to be left on her lonley tongue. She felt some-what lost. Unable to recongnize the feeling of love within her toren, but beating heart. His lips whispered softly, ”You look pretty”, she shook her head as though she could not take the compliment from whom she loved most. But she smiled, knowing that she had found clarity within anothers soul. No breaths were drawn, nor the swords to sink this battle ship and let it rest in peace. Tears visible on her warm cheeks, yet she was unsure of why. He asked “Are you okay?” She nodded, trying to convice herself and everything around her that, everything was, just okay. Again, lips locked, hearts open. Just waiting to be hurt. It was few minutes past her curfew, but her Father’s words no longer frightened her. Was it possible to stay this way forever? Was it possible to be completely and utterly in love with one who shared the same air? Who would have thought. They were just kids, kids who had dreams. They collided. But deep down, she knew she was a waste of time. A waste of that 10 page love letter, a waste of the effort of getting up in the morning, a waste of the love that could be shared between two rebellious kids looking for trouble. She was a waste. She saw it coming. She saw emptiness and tragedy. And for a spilt second she felt the need to run. Run away and live in the place she created in her head. Time was ticking and she knew that her Father’s patience would be getting short. “You have to go…” He sadly mentioned, which she was trying oh so hard to avoid. Her chest hurt, her heart ached for better days. He gently pushed her towards home, a gesture to say go but don’t. She hated good-byes. Always had, always will. Her back faced his, as they paced slowly away from one another. She continuously looked over her shoulder hoping he would be still standing there, just watching, gracefully. Hoping she’d catch his eye, maybe just once. But instead she watched him walk away just as well as she did. His black and blue checkered flannel shirt become nothing but a blur within the darkness of the late, yet cold night. Her eyes turned towards the road that would only lead her to one place of which she dreamt not to go: Home. She felt as though something were to be missing from this miracle. Maybe acceptness? Lucidity? Love scared her. She believed that lowering your walls made you weak. She believed that loving someone with your entire heart made you someone who wouldn’t know when to let go. She was one to get attached, which she already knew she was. Mother drunk, which was a routine for every friday night. “I’m just tipsy” her mother mummbled whilst trying to stand on two feet. She never classified her Mother under the category of being a ‘drunk’ it was just her presences in that stage that frastruated her, it pushed her to the edge. It was that her Mother was always overly happy that made her sad. She hated seeing her Mother that happy because it gave her the thought of knowing that she needed alcohol to look and feel that way. She wanted to cry. She missed her Mother’s arms. She missed the yelled stretch from one end of the house to the other “Goodnight. I love you.” She missed the talks about boys and how they had coodies. She missed the way her Mother was graceful, in everything she did. She missed the way her Mother smiled. Where did every memory go? She knew that whatever were to come out of her Mother’s mouth while she was intoxicated, it would mean more to her than she’ll ever know. She had the urge to write, maybe that way she could make sense of what was going through her head. She could here the woman who raised her from day one, stumbling around the house, unsure of what she was trying to achieve. She heard a slight knock on her door, with a twist of the door knob, her mother’s face appeared. “Don’t think too hard, Honey. It’ll be okay.” She whispered, trying to give her daughtry some sort of hope. In which, she did. The door shut. She sat in her room. Tears began to fall. As she was still trying to work out if they were sad or happy tears. She reminisced on days past. Trying to find happiness in the saddest of moments. Everything will soon wash away. Her Fathers voice rose. “Where have you been?” She didn’t want to talk. She knew that everything had to be perfect, or it wasn’t good enough. “Out” she replied with no eye contact what-so-ever. She felt the tension between their two toren souls. It’s funny how it felt like only yesterday  that she was being pushed on the swing by her Father. That they were best friends. She missed him, but it always felt like he only wanted to talk when she was busy. Was it really her fault that her and her Father had drifted. He was a control freak. Only wanting what was best for the ‘family’, protecting them in every way possible. She didn’t want to be protected anymore. She wanted to spread her wings and fly. She just wanted the boy she loved the most. She just wanted to fall. Let her go. Let me go…