You Know The Minute You Stop Thinking

She Took The Sun When It Came And The Rain The Same Way.

I Sat Up, Sliding Them Off, And The Quiet Around Me Did Not, For Once, Seem Empty And Vast. Instead, For The First Time In A While, It Felt Like It Already Was Full.

I Wondered Which Was Harder, In The End. The Act Of Telling, Or Who You Told It To. Or Maybe If, When You Finally Got It Out, The Story Was Really All That Mattered.

And She Was Good To Me: Strong, Fun, And Fiercely Loyal. And If I Didn't Have Many Other Friends Because Of Her-most Girls Were Intimidated By Her Looks, Or Thought She Was Too Pushy, Or Just Flat-out Feared For Their Boyfriends-it Never Bothered Me. I Never Missed Having A Wide, Thick Circle Of Girlfriends: Rina Was More Than Enough. We Were Comfortable With Each Other's Flaws And Weaknesses, So We Stuck Together And Kept To Ourselves.

Some People, They Can't Just Move On, You Know, Mourn And Cry And Be Done With It. Or At Least Seem To Be. But For Me... I Don't Know. I Didn't Want To Fix It, To Forget. It Wasn't Something That Was Broken. It's Just...something That Happened. And Like That Hole, I'm Just Finding Ways, Every Day, Of Working Around It. Respecting And Remembering And Getting On At The Same Time.