I remember the day she sat beside me in art class, I thought I was going to pass out I was so overwhelmed. She was wearing an overlarge tie dyed shirt with holed Levi jeans, hand me downs of her grandfathers. Her shoes had giant holes in every place possible and her hair was as wild as the look in her eyes. I remembered her instantly, that hair, there is no way anyone could forget that girl’s hair. The curls laid in every which direction and her smile was like that of an angels. I don’t even remember why she had chosen to sit with me, of all people, but I was definitely not about to complain. We became friends instantly and as soon as I witnessed her artistic ability I thought my heart was going to leap from my mouth. She had a way with her instruments, whichever medium we were told to work with she would master it. Her eyes would go steady and she would slightly bite her lower lip working hard and with much concentration. She was one of those people that knew beauty. She breathed it, lived it, and loved it. Once she told me everything she chose in life had to have beauty within it. Her friends no doubt proved this because every single one of them had something beautiful about them, weather others could see it or not. She could.

I’m sure it was my art that had made her even look in my direction, I’m not about to brag but I am pretty good with a pencil and paint brush. Every time she would look at my work her face would light up as if she were reading something magnificent in one of her novels she so often read. I saw that look often and it made my face feel flush and my heat jump around. We were inseparable for a good year. The day she asked me if we could be more than friends I almost had a heat attack, swear to god. Was this beautiful, magnificent being really asking me if I could be with her? We sat for a long moment while I grasped the question. The happiest day of my life was sitting right before me and I stuttered. Everyday after that day I was floating. I would wake up to her text messages and sleep with her soul filling my dreams.

She taught me a lot those short couple months. Like how to be myself and live a little. My head was full of inspiration and art came freely like a flood with April showers. I remember once at five in the morning I got a text that she was almost to my house. She had walked across the entire city at four in the morning just to make it to my house by the time I woke to get the bus. We laid in each others arms and all I remember feeling is how this life could never get any better. She filled my life with hippie insight and a live free attitude. We would go behind the second hand stores at the latest of nights and jack all the crazy knick knacks we could find. Her little beater Toyota Corolla was one of the many things that was filled with all these treasures we had stolen for each other.

Everyday a new painting was being done. A new piece added to this wall of art we both shared. Both our hearts beating so fast and so free, that by the end of the first hour, we would pass out and wake to find ourselves full of paint. It would get all over our clothes, in her hair, on my face. We would just laugh about it and later make up stories about how when we grew up, and lived on our own, our entire house would be a disaster. The day she came to me I knew something was about to change. Her head was a bit more down than usual and she walked with a slower pace than even her usual relaxed hippie attitude never had. I was about to get on the bus to go home and smoke a bunch of herb with my two buddies when she told me we needed to talk.

I looked at her and I knew nothing was ever going to be the same. She told me her head was too full of pain that taking me down with her was nothing she could live with. She had her demons, I knew, but I thought they were gone for the most part. She seemed to be so happy, so alive the last couple of weeks I was sure she had beaten this Satan that poisoned her mind. When she walked away I just wanted to steal her away and make everything better for her. I was a muse she told me, and my heart sank.

After that I kept her at a distance, she never told me we couldn’t be friends but I couldn’t see her face without wanting to hold her. I fell into a hole. What she told me she was saving me from came into my life like a horrible sickness one could never get rid of. Everyday I felt nothing. There was no inspiration, no light, and no happiness. She would try to talk to me but I would just walk on by, the hurt in her eyes stinging my heat as I moved. I knew I was taking everything the wrong way but I couldn’t seem to get over my own self pity and it was only making me fall deeper. I had lost my soul the day she walked away and now I am to live forever in this carcass. I am roaming the earth for all eternity as a mindless mute.