Once upon a time, there was a girl known as the balcony girl. She spent her days whispering secrets to the walls and her mirror, relying on the eyes in her head to see people the way she imagined them rather than how they truly were. From her balcony, she embraced the breeze with closed eyes, yearning for a sense of freedom in nature.

As she curled up in her Adirondack chair, she observed the world below, content in her solitude yet longing for someone to care for her. She watched people pass by, noticing the facade they put on for others, wondering why they felt the need to impress like prisoners seeking favor from a warden.

One day, as she sat in her chair, she witnessed two lovers sharing a tender moment. She whispered softly to herself, guarding her words as if afraid of being overheard. But deep inside, she felt a sharp pain of longing, folding into her chair as if craving something she couldn't have.

As night fell and the stars emerged, she rose from her chair, still pondering her own desires. Watching the lovers bid farewell with a kiss and a hug, she then went to her mirror and whispered, her voice trembling with longing, "Why can't I have all this? Why can't I bid farewell to my beloved with a lingering kiss, free from regret? Why can't I share a tender embrace with my dearest? Why must I keep my guard up, forever shielded from the world's embrace? Why can't I just have a life filled with laughter and companionship?"

In that moment, she realized that perhaps what she truly longed for was someone who could see past her facade, someone who would hold her tightly and say, "I know you're not okay." A perfect life, with companions by her side,
where "I'm okay" means, "please, see inside."
© Sage