She watched the sun setting on the dirty waters of such a beautiful city. She had watched every night for the past two years, rain or shine she sat on that old lifeguard post just to see the sun set. It reminded her so much of herself, so big and powerful being pulled down into the ugliness of the world. She hated the idea of routine; she believed in change, new settings, new scenery, new ideas, and new life. She found the good in everything but, more importantly, the bad in everything, letting her understand how f***ed up the world is. Her mind, her ideas, her passions so big yet kept so quiet. She was like a plug with no outlet.

 

She had one friend. This friend was her perception of God, an imaginary friend. She believed God was an act of imagination something created in a time of desperation. God to her was someone to listen to her problems and someone to confide in. Someone to tell her deepest darkest secrets to because he wasn’t real, he was in your head.  She believed in no heaven but something she liked to call “a second chance". Not everyone got this so called second chance, only people with so much talent and hopes but failure to fulfill their callings received one. She believed this person would be born again with no memory of their previous life, just the same aspirations as before and the will to fulfill them.

 

She believed in love. She believed it had no ties to money, to fame, or to social rank. She knew love was real. Two people could be so crazy about each other they'd go to the lengths of the earth to make each other happy. She knew love was real, she was just scared to ever feel it.

 

I was scared of this girl. She indulged in the idea that the world needs change and needs it fast and I never knew if she would act on it. Her thoughts running too fast for her to even voice them. She was a walking contradiction, so small compared to the size of her thoughts, her shoulders slouched but her head held high. She seemed so content with her loneliness. She wrote love stories, they felt so real but she had never been loved. She had the power to make someone else feel something before they even experienced it, but to others she appeared much different.  

 

It physically hurt to look at her. She stood there slouched over, scared to look anyone in the eyes. Her fingernails black with dirt and her jacket faded to the color gray. She wore her hair however it was when she crawled out of her bed. Her sneakers almost telling a story: so worn that you could see the outlines of her toes, so dirty they looked years old. Yet her eyes filled with such hope. She seemed as if she was yearning for a life better than her own. She had so much power behind her brown eyes but she didn’t know how to use it.

 

I wanted her to find her calling. Living in a world where fake problems are created to distract us from the reals ones. I wanted her to show us the real problems. I wanted her to advocate for herself and her beliefs. I didn’t want her beautiful, intricate, delicate, but fiery thoughts to go to waste. I didn't want her to go to waste. I wanted to see her succeed.

 

She with her slouched shoulders and her old shoes, she with her dirty nails and messy hair, she with the soulful eyes, she was the girl I met in the mirror each morning. We all have purpose and we all have power. You, me, him, her - we need to find the push and the fire inside ourselves to create the life we want to live. We have to breathe by our own terms and even if they are the wrong terms sometimes you need to make mistakes to end up in the right place. Create yourself.