She payed attention to him. She saw him everyday on that corner, smoking his pot and dipping his head down low, letting his curly brown locks dip below his eyes. She didn't know how to start a conversation. She was terrified of what others thought of her, and always judged herself. That's the life of a dreamer girl. A silent dreamer girl.
Everything in this world fascinated her. She absolutely loved to draw, read, and write. She loved giving more than receiving, but when she did receive something, she always kept the item safe and secure. She received many compliments, but she just smiled and walked away. When she received compliments, she wouldn't keep them as safe and secure as her given items. The compliments didn't mean anything to her. When she'd look in the mirror, she'd see nothing but everything bland about her. her nose, her freckles in the assortment between her eyebrows and down to her nose. She didn't see anything, but a lonely, well talented girl. Her heart ached from her last lover, and she was terrified.
Terrified of falling.
