The Conclusion

                 “I’m sorry,” I said.

Her hazel eyes were emotionless and she kept staring into the distance as if she expected someone of something to come walking towards her. Her pink lips were pursued in a straight line and her eyebrows were furrowed, she must be thinking of something really important; she always looked like this when she was thinking.

            “Hey Diana, you hear me?” I asked nudging her arm, breaking her train of thought. She shook her head as if she just woke up from a trance.

“Oh, I’m sorry. What did you say again?”

                “Um,” I scratched my head, “I just said I was sorry.”

               “What are you sorry for?” Diana asked. She still didn’t look at me, but continued to stare at a distance.

            “That I hurt you,” I said.

She smiled the smile that had me falling for her. When she smiled, her hazel eyes had the little twinkle that you’d expect to be up in the clear night sky, not in the eyes of a seventeen-year old girl. Diana’s smile was like witnessing a miracle, rare and beautiful. She turned to me and held my hand. “You could never hurt me, okay?” Her touch was so gentle.

            “Okay. I love you.” I told her.

            “I love you too.” She leaned over and planted a light, cautious kiss on my cheek as if she was afraid that her kiss would kill me. Afterwards, she went silent again.

            “What are you thinking about?” I asked.

            “The moon and the sun. I know its cliché, but I envy the sun. Not because of its beauty and radiance, but because she has someone who loved her so much he was willing to die everyday in order for her to live..”

“You refer to the sun as if it was a human being.” I say.

“I consider everything that is alive and moving to be human. They move, and humans move. I tend to see no difference.” She explains.

“I have no comment. Continue,” I tell her.

“Honestly, something like that isn’t likely t to happen in reality because of simple common sense. Nobody can die everyday and come back to life, it’s humanly impossible.” Diana explained.

               “Jesus did it,” I said.

            “Ah yes, but Jesus is a completely different story, and I am too tired to get in to it too much tonight.” And she was right. Jesus is different from us, humans, but that’s a whole different story.

The wind blew Diana’s light-brown bangs out of her eyes. And I couldn’t help but stare at how perfectly her little baby hairs would just dance around in the wind. Her hair was wavy but got curlier the further down it went.

            “Please stop staring at my hair. It makes me feel uncomfortable,” she says, giggling.

Diana has always been insecure about her hair, I never knew why though. It was always so amazing.

            “But Diana, I don’t want to stop staring at the beautiful brown mop that has been stuck to your scalp since birth,” I said, “it’s just too perfect.”

            “Screw perfect. It’s too damn boring.”

            “Well, then maybe I like boring.” I said.

            “If life was perfect then life would be boring, but everybody wants a perfect life. Everybody wants to be able to say that they’re perfect; including the people who think perfection is overrated. This is what’s wrong with people: everybody wants to be perfect but not too perfect. They don’t think what they have is good enough so they strive for perfection. After they reach their level of perfection, they begin to stop trying. They think that everything is perfect so there is no longer a point in trying to keep it that way. And sadly, I am a part of this,” she pauses and continues whilst air quoting, “everybody.”

 

This was the last conversation I ever had with Diana.