Ramificações de uma mente embaralhada

her.

she was some beautiful kind of late night mystery. i never tried to understand but whenever she looked into my eyes i could feel my soul being harassed as she read all the deep dark spots. the day she left i was half sad, half glad. her presence was never easy to take, she filled the room like a pill fills your stomach: it was not pleasing to swallow but the aftermath felt amazing. she carried that confusing expression on her face and i terribly failed the hundred times i attempted to see through. i loved her and i hated her. i think that's the type of side effect she always wanted to have on people. the days she was around you wanted her gone, the days she was gone you wanted her around. and when i realized she was feeding my heart with that storm, she had already faded. she did not stay long enough, but at the same time she stayed too much. i don't know where she is right now, i just hope she found someone who decrypted her codes a lot faster than i did, even though i think she is the only one who will ever truly know what the hell she's thinking. she's crazy, she's weird, she's a cloud, and she rains quickly. she's hard to follow, you have got to keep up the pace, otherwise you end up losing the best worst person that has ever happened to you. i hope someday i finally uncover all her secret parts, until then i will just let her in my memory, to be my favorite charade.