this day started in the middle of the night

(Angela Bucaro dress, New Moon by Wilfred coat, aldo boots, thrifted belt, purse from a market in Florence)

so you will have to excuse the swollen, heavy circles that have inhabited my eyes.

The previous night had it in for my friend. The night stole our playfulness and hardened our gauzy midnight dreams. It left her young and helpless and hanging on by a thread. And, both fortunately and unfortunately, I was there with her to witness when shit got bad.
Needless to say, the most valuable things we learn, about ourselves and love and the people in our lives are usually in the most painful of ways.
Life has a way of pushing feelings into your pressure points until you can't take it anymore and you hit the ground, crack and collapse. And when we are left as emotional dust, vacant and transparent, like a rubber stamp pressed onto paper too many times; the outline is so faded and the original form lost; is when we can finally breath calmly like we have nothing more to loose, and re-start. 

My friend is an instinctively strong girl, who without question will tear up those somber feelings just as much as they are consuming her. She is someone who knows that life is too short to be chasing feelings that bring you solely happiness or contentment or luck. When you like to play with fire and walk around letting gasoline drip from your heart, you are bound to get burnt. So I guess I am not too worried anymore; maybe excited to see what happens next. Maybe still slightly delirious from lack of sleep. Maybe a bit of both.