The lost girl

The stars seemed to twinkle. The moon was bright.
We talked too long through a too-short night.
We were barely distinct shapes, voices in the dark.
We sat on seats of moss and bark.
Gathered as friends round a diminishing campfire.
We told tales to cheer and inspire.
One told a tale that made every person there cry.
One told of a man who would never die.
I ventured a story, very well told.
Of how I imagined I would be when I'm old.
It was universally agreed that it took second place.
To the person whose story will now fill this space.

He told of a girl. No, not a story like that.
This girl was quite pretty, but he ignored that fact.
This was joyous story which was sad to its core.
About a friend he didn't get to see anymore.

She was smart, but not in an academic way,
The sort of girl who knew every game you could play.
She didn't do well in school, because she gave too much time,
To listen to people, whether they'd boast or they'd whine.
She never realised, but whenever she was in the place,
Everyone there would have a smile on their face.
And she wouldn't be the center, seeking attention,
She'd say just a few words, and guide the conversation.
Give a new topic or fun thing to try,
And let everyone else explore the how and why.

My friend told of one time, he'd just lost his sister,
He'd cut himself off the world, that's how much he missed her.
He'd been sitting alone at lunch, as he had done for days,
When the girl came along and sat in front of his gaze.
And he couldn't remember the precise words she said,
But a mist and a fog seemed to lift from his head.
What's worse is, she didn't even seem to know what she'd done.
She'd just chatted to him because she'd thought it'd be fun.

Now, what happened to this girl of so many powers?
I'd assumed she'd got lost in castles and towers.
Lost from this world because she'd caught a fairytale's curse,
The actual truth ended up being much worse.

The girl, quite simply, grew up.
She got really stressed with exams.
She tried to find a job, so she could have some money for college.
She was told what to say. Told how to stay in line.
She did too. Got a decent degree. Got a job that pays the rent.
But she doesn't make people smile in the same way anymore.

My friend has a strained smile. He was determined to make it stick.
He said they still speak once a while. It's usually quite quick.
It's a little bit strained, but he can't let it go.
Determined to talk to the girl that he used to know.

He never revealed to the girl what she used to be.
She never really realised, he didn't want to seem guilty.

He told the story well, so we applauded his tale.
While the man sat in the past, stoic and pale.