I felt myself shrinking to a small black dot against all those red and white rugs and that pine paneling. I felt like a hole in the ground. There is something demoralizing about watching two people get more and more crazy about each other, especially when you are the only extra person in the room. It's like watching Paris from an express caboose heading in the opposite direction--every second the city gets smaller and smaller, only you feel it's really you getting smaller and smaller and lonelier and lonelier, rushing away from all those lights and that excitement at about a million miles an hour.
But that was then. I was a memory already faded. Now I draw green blinds in the morning, and the sun comes in, and the plant on the windowsill shines green all the way back to the wall, and people stick around, like chocolate candies on my fingertips, and everything feels just right.
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