1 month ago(photo via pforu)
“This is the color of her hair as it blew around her face whipping her cheeks and sticking to her lips and forcing her to squint her eyes as she spoke. My hair is brown, the same brown that you find in a crayon box with a name that is five letters long. Her hair is every color of yellow and gold and honey and sugar that money can buy. We stood in the center of the field with the wind coming at us from every direction and she raised her left hand to her waist and held it open with her palm facing the sky and she said, “you know, I guess I realized that you only have yourself” and my heart fell on the ground from the sadness in her voice. I closed my eyes hoping to find the right words and when I opened them I was looking down and saw that our feet were positioned at the same angle. I raised my hand to my waist, opened to the gray sky that was moving fast, so fast, but I stopped before I spoke. I thought of all the times I hadn’t been there for her because either I couldn’t or I wouldn’t and the times that she had done the same; neither meaning any harm, but simply doing all that we could. “
