There were too many days spent buried under the bed, turned away from the sun outside. I had gone pale, gray, a shadow of my former self.
"Come out and play," my friends would say. "It would make you feel so much better."
"No it won't," I would answer. "I have no reason to go outside." And I stayed in bed, festering like a sore. I had no desire to play, to rise, to open my eyes at the start of every morning. I had stopped dreaming at night, and stopped noting the times I would drift off to an empty sleep.
And then you came along. And it was like opening all of the windows. The sun was shining through at last.
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