there was a girl. she was the kind of meadow that was cold in itself because it devoted its warmth to the people who walked in. it didn't matter if they stayed or not, the only reward she got in return was the realization that she was easy to lose and if someone did start to lose her, they'd never try to hold on. she later realized she wasn't the meadow at all, she was one of the forgettable dandelions that everybody enjoyed watching being blown away from them. it's okay, though. but just because it's okay, does not mean it doesn't hurt.






