eightysix.

Sitting here, looking through these books, with pages upon pages of rusted up history. The history of you and I and all that surrounded us. Our stories, crowded between other useless books about those dragons and warriors, witches and goblins, knights-in-shining-armor and damsels-in-distress. But, you always seemed to tell me that our adventures, were different. They consisted of not only comedies but, tragedies, rivalries, relationships as well as battles won and those stories of battles lost. In my mind, I always thought, "They still sound just like all the other stories that surround us, so why would you say that our's were so different ?" You settled your piercing eyes upon me and smiled. I could feel your fingers lace in with mines. You smiled, and told me "This, this thing we share, its all real. There's no vicious dragon, or witches flying on broomsticks, or furry, talking animals, or even those strong knights who never failed to rescue the beautiful princesses from faraway prisons. Our stories, yes, they are all reality."

You can be weighed down by every single person in your life, but it takes one person, whether it be someone you’re with, not with, or even a complete stranger you’ve had your eye on, to lift you off your feet with one breath.