She, unlike most people, has the privilege of sleeping at around 10pm. But that night she decided to stay up an hour past, and luckily for you she did because when she turned off her phone and stared at her dark lock screen, she saw your message. When she read your text, she scrambled to open her chat and texted you immediately. She quickly ran out of the room and called you, three times to be exact. She was frantic and worried and when you answered, a flow of relief filled her until you spoke. You could barely make sense but she knew what you were saying. She calmed you down and with every post panic attack you had that night she was there. When you disappeared, she waited.
It was 1am already and she was still on call with you. No one spoke. She was there because you asked her. She was on the phone with you as her eyes drooped with every passing moment. She stayed until you fell asleep 4 hours past the time she should've been asleep. She stayed because she cared.
She only had 4 hours of sleep that night and the next day, as soon as she stepped foot in school, she raced to your classroom to make sure you were ok. She forced you to stay with the guidance counselor and pestered you to stay home because she knew how exhausted you were without you having to tell her; she knew how upset you were.
The time came for when she needed you but she didn't call you as she cried for an hour in her bathroom. She didn't call you because you were gaming. But, when she wrote right after, she sent it to you. She sent it to you in hopes that you would know how upset she was without her having to tell you like how she knew about you. But, you didn't noticed. She was so mad at you but she realized that she had no right to be because she didn't tell you. She didn't tell you she was sad or upset. She didn't tell you how much she cried. All she did was tell you a story, and there was no one else to blame but herself.
How she only wished she found someone who knew without her saying anything. How she wished she found someone who cared as much as she did.
But if she could go back and tell you how she was in those moments, she wouldn't because there are so many more important things.
YOU ARE READING
Musing
RandomShort essays, maybe even poetry. This isn't a love story written in rhymes or narratives. This is the story that everyone goes through. In this, you will find 2am thoughts, tears, rants, good bye's, and hello's. You will find the little things I lea...
