The girl sat on her roof at midnight, staring into the vast openness presented in front of her. It’s moments like those that often make a person feel small, but the girl didn’t feel small. The world fit the girl perfectly. It hugged her bare arms with the humid air and the wind made the trees dance for her amusement. Everything was perfect and the girl climbed through her window and drifted to sleep.
In her sleep the girl dreamed of the boy down the street, who had a nose that was a bit too crooked and eyes that could pierce holes in your heart. She dreamt of sitting on the roof with him at midnight, fitting together perfectly in the world around them.
In the morning the girl awoke to humid air and dancing trees and everything felt perfect. The girl walked down the street past the houses that always seemed empty, except for the white house at the end. This house never seemed empty to the girl because inside was a boy with a crooked nose and piercing eyes. As she stopped in front of the house she noticed the boy sitting by the side of the yard reading a book. Driven with curiosity she called out to the boy, “What are you reading?” The boy looked up at her, “Me?” he asked. The girl nodded her head and walked over to the side of the house sitting down on the damp grass.

“I’m reading a story about a boy and a girl.” he replies
“What happens? Do they fall in love?” she asked
“Well yes, but the boy loves the girl so deeply he kills himself,” says the boy.
“That doesn’t make any sense, love is good. Love doesn’t kill,” answered the girl.
The boy paused, looked at the girl with his piercing eyes, and said,
“Well, then you haven’t truly loved a thing.”


That night the girl sat on her roof, left puzzled with what the boy had said. She wished he could be next to her so the girl could understand what loving a thing truly was. The world wasn’t hugging the girl as tight that night and the trees hardly danced, so the girl climbed through her window and drifted to sleep.

In her sleep the girl dreamed of the boy down the street. She dreamt of sitting on the roof with him at midnight. Imagining what it means to truly love a thing. But she didn’t understand, because when she looked at the boy on the roof she didn’t feel pain, only the heat of happiness running through her veins.

The next morning the girl awoke eager to find out what it meant to truly love a thing. So she walked to the white house at the end of the street. Again, the boy was sitting on the damp grass but this time he was not embracing a book, but a girl. They seemed to fit perfectly inside their own little world. Suddenly, the girl felt herself shrinking. The humid air started to squeeze the girl too tight and the dancing trees seemed to mock her. She understood.