Deflated

She smiled, she glittered, she shone with every greeting, farewell, and everything in between, like every bit of life was too exciting to miss. I liked her right away. Her energy was contagious, like an instant pick me up or recharge. She didn't seem to care that I couldn't return every smile, or bubble with the energy she had. She seemed to accept that was just the way I was.

Nothing's fair. And nothing's expected. But at the same time, we expect change, so though we can't be surprised when something happens, we can be caught off guard, and we can be shattered.

She came back from Long Fall deflated, scarred with loss. Her eyes, delicate and china blue, are the only features left emotive, threatening tears and webbed with sadness. Everything else seems blank, as though someone took a washcloth and rubbed it across her face, washing away her smile, washing away her energy, washing away her.

I want to yell and to force her to get better. I see the shattered pieces, and I want to gather them to throw back at her. But I cannot. To try to patch her up now will only rip her into shreds. So I let her be, to try to mend her own hurt.

Stay strong.