I used to want to be like you. I was jealous, I admit it. I still am in some ways, but not like before. Now I understand you too much to be jealous. People call you an idiot, think you're stupid for being happy. They're just blind and jealous, and no-one seems to realize how fake that happiness really is. But back then I was still innocent and naïve. Knowing my pain, but not understanding it. And not really caring about anyone else's, especially not yours. All I knew was I wanted to be happy, happy like you.
It surprised me though, when I came upon the truth. The truth about you. That face, the face you show the world isn't really yours. Girls hate you now, but I'm sure that if they ever saw you, the true you that I see now, they'd instantly love you. I did.
The way that I came upon it was the strangest of all though, but it's one of the memories I treasure the most, hidden away in my heart, so no-one, not even you can see.
Every night, I have a routine. At 10:30pm, I go for a 30minute walk, just to clear my head before bed. Otherwise I'd never get any sleep. I always go to the same spot, my favourite spot, down where the river meets the forest.
Every time I'd been there before, I was alone. No matter what time of the day, the area seemed to remain untouched, by time, animals, or humans. I wasn't expecting anyone to be there. Especially not you.
At first I was angry. Jealous, hateful. No one should impede upon my sacred spot. It was mine, mine alone. I walked up to you, confident in my hate. I was right beside you, and you still hadn't moved. So I reached out an arm to shove you, and my hand had only slightly touched you when I stopped. And I looked.
It was the first time I truly saw you. The first time I just stopped, and looked. Ignored everything I knew about you, ignored the truths, and all the lies. Because right now they didn't matter. And I wondered why I'd never done it before, because standing there in the moonlight, you looked like an angel. No, you were an angel. With your hair silver from the moonlight, matching the soft silver trails of tears rolling down your angelic face.
My arm dropped, without my notice. Sliding down, caressing your arm as it went. I took a step back, shocked, afraid, terrified. Ready to run away back home, to hide in my bed and cry like a little child again.
I just terrified me, the idea that an angel might cry.
I stood there, afraid staring at you, and watched unable to move, as you slowly turned. It seemed to take minutes, hours, years, decades, centuries even, before you were facing me.
And you smiled, a true smile, and reached out your hand to me. I looked down to your hand, then back up to your eyes. Those bright blue, shining, innocent eyes. And you said,
"Come with me."
So I did. I reached out my hand, and took hold of yours. It was so soft, and small, and strangely smooth. You gripped my hand tightly, using it to pull me a step closer to you.
I looked at you, wondering what you were going to do, where we were going to go. But all you did was lead me a few steps forward.
I stood close beside you, our hands still locked, fingers entwined, dangling between us. I waited for you to do something, to say something. But you didn't do anything. You simply stood there, and looked up at the sky.
So I waited, and watched the sky with you. Your grip on my hand strangely comforting, and calming. I no longer felt scared. Like I needed to run away.
I'm not sure how much time had passed. It could have been a week for all I knew or cared. But finally my curiosity got to me, and I had to say something, had to ask.
"Why were you crying?"
You smiled, tilting your head slightly towards me.
"I'm always crying. I just hide it well."
I turned further, to look at you.
"Every time I smile, tears roll down my face. Every time I laugh, I'm really screaming inside.
But it helps to pretend."
Your eyes move up again, locking on some unforeseen land, hidden by the stars. I was shocked, to say the least. The person I had been jealous of for their happiness, was not really happy. They were just as sad, if not sadder than me.
"I tell my self, that if I smile enough, laugh long enough, pretend hard enough, I'll really be happy, and not just faking it."
You laughed softly.
"As you can see, it's not working."
"Why do you hide it then?"
You turned to look at me.
"The same reason you do."
We fell silent. There was nothing to really say after that. But there was one thing I wanted to say. I knew we both wanted for it, and were hoping for it.
"Maybe one day we can be saved."
You smiled, a bright shining smile, that was like the heavens lighting up and shining down on me through your face and eyes. You turned fully, taking my other hand in yours.
"Can you save me?"
I was shocked. Out of all the things I expected, that was the furthest from my mind. I had no idea you'd say something like that. But as soon as you said it, the response came straight to mind.
'Me, save you? I can't even save myself.'
I didn't say it out loud, but I think you heard it anyway. The silver tracks on your cheeks began to flow again, but you didn't stop smiling, not even for a second.
"I can save you."
I looked up, from where my eyes had drifted, somewhere down low, where the ground seemed to be more interesting.
You pulled me closer, and I could feel you, and the warmth coming off you. It was like liquid heat, pure sunlight streaming out of you and into me. And I realized for the first time, how cold I had been before.
So I believed you, and I smiled with you. Then you held me close, arms wrapped tightly around my body, warming me through. Sighing, you lay your head on my shoulder, burying your face into my neck.
And you said softly, "Maybe we can save each other."