It’s okay.

No. It’s not. It’s not okay. When will you understand that you don’t know what “okay” is? When will you understand that you really don’t understand anything? Do you even know? Do you even care?


They say the best cure to sadness is to have your best friends with you to cheer you up. Yet, I don’t think anyone understands what that really means. They think it means “If someone is sad, zoom over to her and overwhelm her with questions on what happened and if she’s okay, then join the crowd of people surrounding her and ignore the screams of people yelling ‘Give her space!’; which only makes it worse.” You. Are. So. Wrong. Do you want to know what I want?


I want, on the days that I just feel like crawling up in a little cave and crying myself to sleep, to ACTUALLY have space. Not the people who just stand there with a look of pity on their face while I cry my eyes out. Not a hundred overwhelming screams and questions that continuously eat at my insides. I want one person.


Just one. I don’t care who. I don’t care if it’s a total stranger who found me in the hallways or on the street, or my absolute best friend. I just want someone. I want her to walk up to me, grab my hand and whisper, “I want to show you something.”


I want her to run with me, far, far away from my personal hell, holding my hand all the way. We’ll run away from the street or hallway or building, far, far away. Eventually, we will reach the very top of a giant hill. It will be raining, a huge downpour. We’ll be standing there, staring out at the sky in front of us. It will be a beautiful landscape; giant trees towering over a valley beaded with blades of sharp grass. There will be just enough clouds to allow the sun and the sky to peek through. We will stand there for a moment, still holding hands, and she’ll slowly sit down; I’ll join her. And we’ll sit. Just sit. That’s it; we’ll sit in silence and stare at the clouds and the sun peeking over the horizon. I’ll feel my tears combine with the streams of rain strolling down my face, joining it in the ground. We’ll sit like this for what will seem like forever, and then… someone else walks by. They’ll see us, and the tears on my face. And they’ll walk over next to me, and sit down slowly. One person after another, they’ll join the group of people in the rain, into the sun. Silently. No one will say a word. I want the whole world to sit in one line, on a gigantic hill, watching the sunset. Every single person. In the rain. Silently. And I’ll cry. It feels good to cry. I’ll cry with the entire world sitting next to me. I’ll cry in the rain staring at the sun and the clouds that allowed some sky to come through. I’ll cry silently.


And then, after hours of silence, the girl will say with a sigh, “…I love the rain.” I won’t look at her, but I’ll pause for a moment. Then there will be a smile. A smile, slowly growing on my face. “More than anything.”


We’ll sit for a bit longer, and then she’ll get up quickly. It will be nighttime, and the girl will grab my hand, pull me up and whisper, “Shall we dance to the music?” I’ll pause, smiling, and everyone will look over at us confusedly. We will be the only ones to know that the “music” is the music of the rain. So I’ll nod slightly, still smiling.


The rest of that night will be perfect. We’ll chase each other in the darkness and fall in puddles, roll down hills and draw constellations in the sky, climb mazes in the trees and sit on the moon. I want us to do everything I’ve ever dreamed of doing. In the darkness. In the rain. Breaking the silence.

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