She said there was nothing to say. She sat there staring out at a blank surface but her eyes darted as if she was reliving a tormented scene. She shudders and laughs half smiling to distract us from watching the sadness covering the person we no longer really knew. She had shrunken inside her self and boarded up the doors. There was nothing left for the four of us to do so we sat there in silence. As time inched along, one by one everyone took thier leave. I sat there unmoving and prepared to stay all night in the silence. Quietly as if a twig snapped she began to speak. Incoherant mumblings about choices and roads. She asked if the pain would ever go away,as if I knew, but I said nothing. She began to demand he would come back alive, as if I could make his death dissapear. She looked out at the emptiness around her and said: "there is no magic. There is no perfect ending. Fairytales are fucked. Life is unexpected and often unkind." Pulling out his wallet now without owner she smells it... Searching for a memory. I tell her the only thing my sad mind is capable of offering: "life is about moments. Stolen beautiful moments, first kisses, late nights out with your friends, making love all night, dancing in the rain. Yes, it can be unkind,but the moments that steal your breath are worth the pain. It might not seem like it now, but one morning you will wake up and the moments will comfort instead of torture you. We get moments. We live for moments.