She's the kind of girl who hangs dream catchers above her bed, who eats pomegranates and reads old history books for fun. She's the kind of girl who sleeps in old men's dress shirts, and wears her earrings to bed. She's the kind of girl who takes pictures of her hands with disposable cameras and wallpapers her bedroom with pretty roses. She's the kind of girl who dances down the street and catches sideways stares of the blank faced pedestrians who pass, but always smiles back. She's the girl with the windows down, and the music up, a breath of life blowing in her hair. She's the girl who's tongue tastes like whiskey and cigarettes, and who smells a bit like a summer in Paris. She's the kind of girl who catches the first snowflake in the palm of her bare hands and watches it melt into her pale skin, before anyone else notices the sky is falling. She's the kind of girl who's laughter echoes in your fondest memories. She's the kind of girl who's always sketching eyes and mouths of the characters in her dreams, and drawing on the back of her bar tab. She's the kind of girl who doesn't know any other way but to wear her heart on her sleeve. She's the kind of girl who looks you right in the eyes, and almost through you when you speak to her.
That summer in Paris I kept begging you to call me by my 'French' name, the one our professor had so affectionately given me when we completed our course. But, you refused. You said it made me sound like a French whore. I think you were just jealous that he gave me a pet name, and not you! But, I told you, just as long as you refused to call me, 'Chloe Vinewood,' I refused to take off my 'ridiculous' sunglasses that you kept nagging me to stop wearing 24/7. But what you didn't understand darling, is that blue eyes - they're very sensitive to light. Sunlight. Fluorescent light. Moon light. You were convinced that I was 'hiding' from the World behind those big shades, but sweet heart, I was only trying to protect my eye sight! And I must have been doing something right because the optometrist said my eye sight was improving. In fact, he said he had never seen anyone's vision improve so much! I told him that I once read a story about this woman who was blind - not just 'legally blind' like I was, but blind-blind, like the people who need to read braille - and she cured her vision through positive thinking. Supposedly every day she would lay in bed and stare at this one corner in her room and tell herself that she could see, and then slowly but surely her vision corrected itself. Of course my doctor laughed at me and told me it was 'impossible,' but I insure you - I have been practicing similar techniques and, what else could be the explanation for my sudden and drastic improved vision? I asked for the doctors address and mailed him a copy of the story as soon as I got home.
