It was one of those summer days, when you felt like the evening had to pull extra hard to get the sun down. Evenings on wich normal people, whatever that means, would take an evening swim or eat pizza by the beach. I have to admit, I have no idea what normal people would do, but I know one thing for sure, they wouldn't cry like they felt the pain of the moon, who waited to come peek for so long. I don't know how, why or for who, but I felt it. It was the type of pain that never really left you, always came back in waves and seemingly stronger than before.

I asked a friend about it, but she didn't answer and weirdly that was the best and only answer I ever hoped for. She's the type of friend that never acted like she knew why, she didn't force some not well thought out of responce just for the sake of routine. She never gave me her words in draft version. Instead she gave me silence not because she didn't have an opinion, but because she knew her opinion wouldn't have mattered in the situation. Because only silence allows me to be at peace.
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