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You want me to give her a key?" the guy asked. "I want you to give her a possibility," she told him, looking at my necklace again. "And that's what a key represents. An open door, a chance. You know?
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It was just perfect, just right all at once.
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It wasn't about being happy or unhappy. I just didn't want to be me anymore.
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Everyone had a forever.
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So he didn't have to prove how he felt about me. Like so much else, I should just know.
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Because maybe, the best of times were yet to come. You never knew.
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I've always known who I am. I might not work perfectly, or be like them, but that's okay. I know I work in my own way.
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Like it takes so little not only to change something, but to make you forget the way it once was, as well.