She was sitting next to me again. I didn't know who she was, well, I didn't know her name at least. She always sat next to me though, never said anything, she was just always there.

She had a tattoo of a butterfly on her neck, facing me. Her hair was long but always pulled back tight. Her style matched mine, glam rock, she was quiet but aggressive. She always had a look like she was ready to explode. Right on the edge. She never took any crap from anyone - especially men. Maybe she was a lesbian? No, don't make that assumption just because she's strong and stubborn. I kinda hoped she was. I always liked new girls better when I had suspicions they were gay. Then disappointment later when they gawk about how hot a guy is on American Idol. Then I hated them. But then again there's never any hot guys on American Idol so who knows.

Who did she love? Did she love at all? I'm sure she did. I did. If I can she can! I bet he's just like her. Aggressive, loves to fight, kinda judgmental but mostly of himself. I bet he's beautiful too. No, she's beautiful, he'd be handsome. Probably tall. Probably cares about his car more than his clothes. Probably loves her more than he'd ever admit.

And her to him? She probably hates the kitchen but would brave it for him. Probably hates giving him a back massage but does it for him. His family probably loves her and they're probably some of the only people she's truly shy around.

I miss her when she's gone. Where does she go when she's not with me?

Our chairs had arm rests. I wish they didn't. I wish she was closer to me. I wish we could be the same person. For once.