I wish I could've told the sweet girl that friends don't come easily. That she didn't have to wait around the corner for a lonely stranger. That girls happen to be mean, sometimes. That walking alone down the hallway of her school, wasn't an invitation for conversation. That hanging around the outside of a group won't persuade them to bring you in. That all she thought was possible through her simple acts of kindness and need; was not enough. I wish I couldve told the sweet girl that guys will never understand her. That her passion wasn't what he wanted. That her shyness wasn't appealing. That her attempt at conversation wasn't working. I wish I could've told the sweet girl that her mother meant no harm. That her love was only absent when her demons caught up to her. That her isolation was her way of rekindling whatever she had left to give, to the sweet girl. But the girl has grown up now, and though her past experiences have brought her so much emotion, a cold heart, a dry shoulder. She has forgiven all of it, because deep down still laid the sweet little girl.