Going crazy until we see the sun...

I was always told that opposites attract, but I think that people like us, people who'd rather stay at home, endlessly listening to the same song, and reading stories we'll never get to live, fall in love with others like us. In a way, we fall in love with ourselves. We need more, because we can see the deeper parts of people, we long for their souls, their garden of thought, for feeling their backbone, their spine, inhaling the words they breathe. I think we fall for people like us, people with inspiring words, dreams, and glances at strangers. We function differently, because we strive off of beauty, and our entire existence consists of finding that special one thing in someone who isn't just different, but one who thinks, and feels, and wonders as remarkably as we sometimes do. We don't need opposites, or a magnetic force which pulls together, because we're already there.

And so all at once, summer collapsed into fall, and he was left underneath the rubble. This is not a story about strength or about survival or about how he clawed himself back to the surface. This is merely a story about a boy who never let go and is still stuck in the time when he called it love. A story about a boy who never grew up, and to this day, to this second, still dreams of a future most would deem out of reach. A story about a boy who smiles like yesterday does not matter, and laughs as if tomorrow shall be everything today is not. A story about a boy who still believes that happy ever after does indeed exist.