The Starry Night Sky


Another girl series post! 
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The girl looked at the boy who was in front of her. His eyes may have registered the fact that she was standing there, awkwardly, arms sticking out of her sleeveless dress and the stance of her body. The boy may have seen this; he may have not. It was impossible to tell. The girl had an inkling that her presence wasn’t even noted.

The girl looked up at the night sky, with its friendly twinkling stars, that always said, “I’ll help you” with a wink. Always there, a steady presence. Van Gogh had painted this sky with orbs of yellow short choppy strokes that brought brilliance to such a dreary cloak that hid everything.

The girl had asked herself why things turned out the way they did. She wasn’t the wallflower girl, staring at the boy, longingly. The boy and girl were friends, once upon a time. They joked around, teased each other and talked. The girl smiled.

What had went wrong? The night sky that had seemed so friendly was taunting her with the bright eyes of a thousand, staring down at her. A thousand eyes, watching one person, her rights and wrongs. The girl felt so annoyed.

What had went wrong? Was she too tomboyish, was she too friendly, was she too dreary and plain?
The girl wasn’t attracted to the boy, at least she didn’t think so. There was a gap missing from her life. The boy had understood her so much, so much that she didn’t think it was possible. He had understood her quirks, idiosyncrasies, jokes that weren’t really jokes, and blunt statements. No, it wasn’t really love, but the need to have someone understand her.

Recently, any time they talked, there was an awkward silence, words left unspoken, hanging in the air, dead weight. It was easier not to speak or else the giant cloud overhanging them would come down in one fell swoop and stifle them both.

Tracing the memories, back to the beginning, because it’s always easier to figure out the end with the beginning, the girl remembered. It seemed like yesterday, the memory. The boy had looked broody, so broody that the girl worried if he was okay. The boy looked surprised and the girl hesitantly explained. The boy laughed, and the difference was great. The girl started chatting and so it would continue. They shared jokes, laughter…

It was incredibly soothing, to reveal thoughts she never voiced before and have someone of the same mind understand.

Things got awkward. Awkward. That very word, had a clunky feeling, sounds garbled and rolled around in her mouth. The girl stared at her hands. The boy spoke less, and both people, neither verbose, stared at the ground during those periods of silence. The girl decided that it was easier to stop talking all together. He obviously wouldn’t tell her what had happened and she wouldn’t ask. She was too quiet.

It was only now that the girl had realized how dearly important that initial friendship was. She was herself then. She wanted to ask the boy, what had happened. Boy, what happened?

The girl hadn’t changed. She was sure of that. The girl walked , on the path, looking up at the sky. Sometimes, when she ran into the boy, she had felt distinctly that there was something that he had to say, even in the awkward silence. Sometimes, he had acted like nothing was wrong. The difference annoyed her, bothered her.

This was not an unrequited love story. There were no feelings of love, the girl was sure of it. The only feelings she felt right now was confusion and the odd puzzlement of someone who’s realized that the sand castle collapsed, but not quite sure why or how. Possibly the girl felt a longing for the truth, unadulterated, with no awkward silences, heavy air filled with fidgeting and mumbling and noncommittal responses.

The girl walked along the path. She caught the eye of the boy and smiled a little. She did not know if he did in fact see her, nor did she care anymore.

There were things to do, people to meet and after all, like Scarlett said in Gone with the Wind, tomorrow was a whole new day. A new day filled with new thoughts.

The girl smiled and walked on. 
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For an archive of the girl series, you can go here. A new girl series story is posted every Friday on this blog. 

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Maira Gall