It was with a quiet sense of misery, a longing deep in her soul, that she watched the people around her. They flitted through life, danced merry circles around the individuals that captured their attention, and then moved on to the next in a shower of petals and excitement.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make herself feel what they felt, or even a sliver of what she had felt many years ago.
So she turned her attention to everything around her, outside instead of in. Because she could find answers to why she loved sunset, and the color blood red, and the orange leaves imprinted into the sidewalk and her memory. But she couldn’t find answers to what was wrong with her.
Instead she stared out her bedroom window, and lost herself in the moon at dusk and in the flowers across the alleyway. Eventually, when the sun rose, she realized that the destination wasn’t worth chasing– sometimes it was the journey where the most beautiful things lay.
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