She likes to watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S, because she's always wanted friends like that. People who are friends but also more than just that. Lovers, maybe. But I think she liked the idea of a family better.

She likes strange music, because she's a strange girl. She likes flowers in her hair, and trees, and nature. She likes strange art, and weird things. Maybe that's why she likes me, too.

She's blissful and whimsical, but even though she pretends to be safe in a castle on the clouds--she can get hurt, too. And it hurts her to hurt us, and it hurts us to hurt her.

She's happy, I think? I hope she is. If not, I hope she'll finally find her happiness, in the right thing instead of false promises.

She is okay to me, and I am okay to her (I think?). And okay means more to us than it usually does, and that's how things should be: okay.