She never apologized. Never.
Said her parents were hippies and didn't believe in regret.
Practically outlawed the emotion and any of its word forms.
She'd simply show up after work in her party shoes
and proclaim it a day for celebration.
And somewhere between drink number one and bar number two
and her bed or mine...
and her bed or mine...
I'd forget all about our fight.
She was the most magical girl I'd ever loved.
All of her quirks were cute.
She never washed pans or plates because
"yesterday still tastes good to me."
She couldn't make a morning meeting to save her life.
"I can't be effective if my soul is weary."
And she expected all of us to understand that
"a girl who grew up without clocks just has to make her own time."
My bohemian girl.
She was the most magical girl I'd ever loved.
All of her quirks were cute.
She never washed pans or plates because
"yesterday still tastes good to me."
She couldn't make a morning meeting to save her life.
"I can't be effective if my soul is weary."
And she expected all of us to understand that
"a girl who grew up without clocks just has to make her own time."
My bohemian girl.
About a year later, I finally met her parents.
One a scientist. One a school secretary. Never hippies.
I asked her why she lied to me about something so...basic.
And she had no answer.
The one time she could have said it,
the one time she should have wanted to say it,
she didn't.
And she had no answer.
The one time she could have said it,
the one time she should have wanted to say it,
she didn't.
I half-expected to see her the next day outside work,
but she was gone.
In more ways than one, that girl was gone.
lovely little story <3 we're all unapologetic hippies at heart.
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