1

6 2 0
                                    


I've never been one for keeping a diary, but something about today compels me to start. I was walking out of the therapy hospital, lost in my thoughts as usual, when I saw her. She was exiting the building, her eyes downcast and her shoulders hunched as if she was carrying the weight of the world. There was a sadness about her that I couldn't ignore.

Me: "Hey, are you okay?"

Mysterious girl: "I'm fine, just... lost in thought, I guess."

She looked up briefly, and I saw a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes before she quickly looked away. She seemed familiar, but I couldn't place her at first. It wasn't until later that I realized she was in my philosophy class. Diane Ashford. I'd seen her a few times in the library, always engrossed in her books, always alone. There was something about her that intrigued me. Maybe it was the way she moved, like she was trying to be invisible. Or perhaps it was the sadness that seemed to emanate from her, a sadness I recognized all too well. It mirrored my own.

As I watched her walk away, I felt a strange pull of curiosity and concern. Who was she? What was her story? Why was she at the therapy hospital? These questions lingered in my mind, and I found myself wanting to know more about her. There was something about her that resonated with me, something familiar in her sadness.

I decided to follow her at a distance, just to make sure she was okay. She walked slowly, her steps heavy, and I couldn't shake the feeling that she needed someone to talk to, someone to understand her. I've been there, feeling alone and lost, and I know how much it can mean to have someone reach out.

As she turned a corner, I lost sight of her, but the image of her stayed with me. I couldn't stop thinking about her all day. I wanted to approach her, to offer some kind of comfort or support, but I didn't know how. Instead, I came home and decided to write it all down. Maybe this will help me make sense of what I'm feeling.

There's something about her that I can't ignore. I want to know more about her, to understand her story. And maybe, in the process, I'll find some answers of my own.


Curiously,

Liam

HERWhere stories live. Discover now