The girl on the bench

She had dark eyes, it seemed that something was missing in them, maybe a glow, maybe a desire, she was there every day. She was in the living room, in the chair, on the stairs, in the bathroom, on the bus and at recess, she watched quietly, she saw people, it was almost as if she didn't feel like one, out of place, lost, she knew she couldn't have that, she knew she would never really be there, she would never be that. She seemed to reflect and analyze every part of happiness, but not hers, she would never be able to do such a thing, but that of others yes. It used to be blurry in the eyes of a person who could not see, not himself, not what was really but only what could be. She looked tired, tired of others, tired of herself, tired of the same landscapes, the same places, but for some reason she stayed there, maybe for comfort? Or maybe just because they have nothing to do.But some people are like that, aren't they? They prefer to stay in a place that has instability than try something new and fail miserably, after all, how long would it take to recover from this failure? probably a long time. yes, yes, no risk, no pain, oh poor little girl.