story

the moonlight weaved through the gaps in her curtain, into her wide awake eyes.
another night.
she thought of the moonlight and how it lit up his soft brown eyes. meaningless details.
was it really meaningless? all of it?
it had felt so significant at the time. it still felt like a significant part of her life. but to know that it had
just been a chapter and just that, bothered her. she wasn't sure why.
she was sure there was more to this story and that the end hadn't happened yet.
she was also sure about linearity. in that it simply, didn't exist at all.
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we like to think of things as parts to a whole. beginning. middle. end.
three neat sections. the natural order of things.
and while a chain of events naturally do follow order, their meaning follows no order at all.
there is beauty in chaos. and in beauty, chaos.
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