I've wondered for a long time what's making her so unhappy. Mind you, happy is an incredibly relative concept. One person's happiness is another's dragged-through-the-mud depression. I realize we're talking about grey areas here.
But I know what she looked like happy. She was radiant, bursting from the seams. I haven't seen that in a while, and I can't help but wonder, where could it have possibly gone?
When she first met me, she was the kind of happy I hated. So enormously over the top cheerful. I figured it would come between us. How could someone as low-key (which is the nicest way of calling yourself unengaged in your own life) as myself be friends with a real-life, walking, talking Disney character? I didn't see it as possible. I'd get frustrated with her or she'd get frustrated with me and it would all go South.
Somehow, we defied those odds and became friends. Then more. Then less. Through all this, my disposition has changed. Hers has too.
When she first met me, she was as bright as the summer's sun. Now, all I see are storm clouds.
And for the longest time, I thought it had to be her. She was the lowest common denominator.
Then I read the story again.
It all seems to start with when she first met