Space was needed.
Space was found.
Space was enjoyed.
Space has so many
Meanings.
So many interpretations.
Good and bad.
But if we're talking about
Distance,
Then that's what I wanted.
Just for a short time
Because it was
Becoming too crowded
In my head
Again.
So I went down to Oscar River
And hummed along out loud
To the rhythm of the bubbling
Brook and sat on the bank
In a floaty summer dress.
I tensed when I
Felt my space invaded.
I turned around and it was you.
You asked if you could sit down.
I was still in shock.
You were actually real.
You sat
Anyway.
You told me you had heard about me
Breaking up
With Will.
Why did I continue
Such a pointless and
Idle conversation?
After all this time,
You were alone,
With me.
I said, anyway,
About it.
And I remembered how
I still crave
True love.
To be in love
To feel it.
It must have been the
Most I've ever said
To you at one time.
In return and
Out of politeness,
I asked how you were
And you replied
That you were okay
Yet unhappy.
You told me
You were unhappy with
Your life
And your grades
And your friends.
You said they
Let you down
When you need them most.
I listened carefully and
Watched the stream
So I wouldn't have to look at you.
You said that sailing was a break
From it all.
You said being with us
The other night, however
Awkward it was,
Was a break.
The space you needed.
And in the space
Of the meadow,
We reached out.
Because suddenly we wanted to fill the space
With something as beautiful
As the sound of
Tumbling water.
In the space of
The meadow,
Your hand found
Mine.
(found written at the back of a post card from Paris)
a/n: thank you everyone, so much, for all the support xx
p.s. need help for new places to hide notes. Any ideas?

YOU ARE READING
Faded
أدب المراهقينBecause in the end, we are all irrelevant. Especially me. {A series of notes and letters written by a girl called Chloe McMullen, found in places you would least expect}