Waterfalls.
Sitting here, watching the colors twist into random patterns, it reminds me of you. It seems almost as if it's been an eternity since I've spoken with you - so light-hearted and care-free until the world stops. Until your gaze flashes in that way that stills my heart and forces me to a standstill until I remember how to breathe again. Waterfalls remind me of the first story I ever told you, back before everything started. Before things got bad and every night was a slightly-buzzed, off-color humor-fest and no one cared. The stakes are too high, now. And I don't know where my boundaries lie. I can't quite figure out what saving grace I need to have such breathless freedom again - no restraint, no fear. No tangled, complex, twisted emotions, because every thought and feeling is crystal-clear and simple, straight-forward and easily recognizable. I never told you how grateful I am for that.
I never told you a lot of things.
Like how many times you've made me laugh when I thought I'd never laugh again. How many days and nights you've talked to me and made me remember that I can feel pretty, too, and not hate myself for it. That maybe the world isn't so bad after all, even if it does suck pretty bad sometimes. It makes me cry sometimes to think of you - of all of the pain you've had to go through lately. I wish you only the best. I never told you how much you mean to me and how much I care.
I hope you know anyway.