or when maybe, the anxiety is worth it for once.
he texted back. my dearest wesley, with kindness in his voice. we spoke for a moment, and before i could overstep his narrow-lined boundaries, i pressed pause.
the scene was halted on the image of a girl so smart yet so stupid for loving and caring for a boy who would never return the favor. she looked at the boy across the frozen lake, her green eyes glistening with tears at the image before her. he looked so far away; he was better up close.
i learned today that distance is everything. perspective is key. that's why most people who knew him thought him cold and aloof: they were simply too far away and coming in from the wrong angle.
i used to see everything with high definition, i was so near him, but now, i am beginning to see what they saw: a boy too proud.
but i am not simply the clingy girl he made me out to be.
perhaps we all need a glass of perspective.
YOU ARE READING
Smart Girl
Non-Fictionthoughts from the smart girl. //the journal of wren// //highest rank #2 in non fiction// //all names of real people interacted with here are altered from their original versions for privacy's sake//
