Golden Curls.

Moving mouths spitting nothing but sour swords cutting through all who sat at that table, a dirty scenery to be contemplating, and amidst the abuses and discussions came flying in a sun, locked into the curls of a stranger, golden amber. It took me a while to take in this magnificent landscape, dark brown eyes, the textures of which were made visible by the light adorning them, black and crimson. Have you ever gotten this feeling of slowly losing your senses, and then the harder you try to hold onto them, the more you feel they're letting go? It was hard not to keep staring at her, how could I not? I had forever been fascinated by the entities painting the sky, and she was a masterpiece, the prettiest fragment of the sky bestowed upon the world. My breath got stuck up in my chest, why was she moving in slow-mo? Was this my mind playing with me?

It's a screwed-up place to be living in, the laws of which are ridiculous and unfair, a place where each day is a new death, the end of something or someone, a grayness, a melancholy to be here. Life felt as if it were only teaching me new ways of dying, new reasons of being sad, and the longer I pondered about it, the sooner it hit me, are we all not merely dying by each passing day? Maybe this is why we hold so tightly to the little breath of life we get, cling to those who make us feel alive so dearly, and maybe that was why I could not take my eyes off her. She radiated happiness, and like a helpless river who is bound to end up in the sea, I could not help but be drawn towards her. Perhaps I had been staring for too long, for she looked up at me and smiled, and for that moment, all the work that I had been doing seemed meaningless, I lost my focus, lost my heart, and the only thing I could think about was of a smiling stranger I started dreaming my future with.

It then struck me really hard that I knew nothing about her. Who was she? I got up, walked up to my friends, asked everyone if they knew anything about her, and luckily someone did. Turns out to be, I had been her friend on Snapchat - fate, one big fancy joke. The same day I texted her, as a friend, because I did not want to rush things out. Soon enough, things came to pace. I had been helping her with some math problems, joking about mostly everything, exercising my flirting skills which were beyond lame but still worked- I still have not been able to read the old conversations, they were this lame - and I was happy again.

Why is it that when that person you've been texting all the time everyday shows up in front of you, not a word leaves your mind? Why does it always have to get so awkward? "You look like a turtle in your green blouse." Great start, one of the best ways to get to the heart of the girl you love, stupid me. After this, things got a little smoother, we sat together in the conference room, though the coordinators made us sit apart afterwards. The second day she walked in with an orange blouse, and she looked sublime. I spent most of my time with her, talking, grabbing her by the waist while we were walking, and the connection was there and it was real, the realest feeling I had gotten in years and I did not want to lose it. The proclamation of the results was the worst part, we ended up with nothing. She then walked up to me, hugged me, and we stood there, not uttering a word, and I knew from then on that there was nothing I would not do to protect this girl in my arms, nothing I would not do to make her feel loved, and it came to me that in the search of pride and a fading title, I had found myself a heart and a reason to carry on.

It was around six, and I was drowning in the highs of alcohol, no longer able to see clear, no longer able to stand straight. Then walked in my sun, with all the grace Euphrosyne, hair untied and flying around, a dress darker than the night and the smile of a countless stars shaming the moonlight. I was sobered up, just looking at her, she was magnificent. Was this real life or just a dream? She seemed like a fantasy, how could someone be so cruelly pretty? She was not the kind of cute normal people are, no, she was different, the kind of cute that made you want to cry and made your heart smile, the kind of cute you would walk the lengths of the world for. And that night, I turned to gold, for I kissed the sun, and it was divine.