A Cruel Twist of Fate

The words bounced back and forth in her grievously tortured mind as she flailed wildly to keep from being drowned by her own feelings. She looked down and in her crazed state. She could almost see the broken pieces of her shattered world laying haphazardly all around her feet. Her wounded heart, clumsily patched together by her inexperienced hand, burst painfully open and started bleeding again. She almost gasped as the overwhelming grief crashed down her abused body. Heart racing frantically, she tore her desperate gaze away and stumbled backwards. She forcefully thrust her emotions aside as she looked at her reflection. Her blood and tear streaked face was a mirror of what she was feeling at the moment.

It was never easy for her to care about someone else. To give up control of her life. To risk getting hurt. To compromise and overlook things then put up with someone else's crap. He's got a lot of crap. And she was willing to do it for him.

It lasted for about the right time it was supposed to last. Maybe even longer. Then eventually, either fall in love or don't. Or, worse, get stuck in between.

What they had was long gone. It was just a flickering flame waiting to be extiguished.

The decision of her life has been made. Fading the background, bringing reality into focus. Fate had finally made it's move, and she was there, where she's supposed to be. And somehow it made her sad. It had finally been crossed where it just didn't matter anymore.

She tried to keep her mind on pleasant things. TV... parks... trees... clouds... flowers... butterflies... love... heartbreak... loneliness... depression... She was a fucking mental boomerang.

Her eyes are finally dry. She had no tears left. She cried all hers out. Alcohol had temporarily robbed her of coherence and consciousness. What it didn't do is ease the pain. If anything, it just made it more confusing, more terrifying.. Her face was wan and marked with the traces of her grief.

She has nothing and everything to look forward to at this point. The feeling of uncertainly, ironically, suddenly made things clearer somehow.

And, at the end, she reluctantly dropped her hand and did what she did best. She ran.