whats real.

We sit on the curb, almost oblivious to the party and the people moving on around us. People stumble out of the house and step on our toes as they walked past, too drunk to see or really care. It makes me mad to see this, it makes me realize how most people are so wrapped up in their own worlds that they can hardly see anyone else's.

"are you okay?" i ask her. Of course she is ok, she says, it is just some stupid boy. It sucks but shits happens and she's says she's stronger that this, and i know it's true. I tell her i hate the state of the world, how people treat eachother. But most of all i tell her how i hate guys, and how they only seek one night stands. And if that is all they think girls are good for, and that's the only way to treat them, then they are fucked. Because there is a lot more to life than physical gratification, and beneath that body there is a soul, but they would have never known that unless someone were to point it out. It's not like i'm some feminist here. I just say it how it is. And that is exactly how it is. Yet no one cares, we all just go along with it.

"that's the thing" she says to me, "i will never cry over a boy. because of what happened i now realize that there are important things in life to cry over. but boys are not one. if a boy breaks your heart you can still see him and talk to him. He is still there and alive even if he is a jackass. but when someone dies you never get to see them again. Their just gone. For good. You've lost that person forever. And that is something you can cry over. Not boys."
i realize her strength comes from knowing what's real in life.
and that's a gift and vision that not many people have.