just thoughts

I've never met her; the girl sitting next to me. Yet I feel like I know her. Her fears, her hopes, her dreams. She doesn't wear her emotions on her sleeves like I do, she keeps a peaceful face in the chaos of the day. One of her friends is walking by her, tapping his fingers against the fake plastic wood that her desk is made of. Tap, tap, tap. She smiles. I envy him. His courage to know her, his quiet questions that maker her tilt her head in such an elegant way. I wonder what she dreams about when she sleeps, I wonder what monsters haunt her nightmares, just as they haunt mine. Does she dream about the peace that her patintings show? The gentle nature of the monsters that live under all of our beds? I wish I knew. how alike are we? Where did she come from? Does she know The Answer? These questions plague me. I want to be a part of her life. Affect her the way she will never affect me. I love her, yet I don't even know her name.

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Not from my point of view.