she's not the same she was two days ago, she's in love with her new idea of love. it's all about shaky hands taking dim hazy pictures, shadows against blobs of lights, all creating a feeling of mesmerising melancholy; isolation and disorientation.
she thinks to herself 'our story would give everyone a heartache. it might be happy-sappy or it might end in pillow wetting tears. it might leave everyone dancing to loud music or sitting alone at bars but it will leave everyone changed. it might give hope or it might just give more yearning', all the while lying in her bed in utter dark watching lights, of the cars passing by on the street, create visuals on her ceiling. (that one song on repeat in her mind which she can't even translate).