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Segmented, her thoughts.
Distracted, she is.
Unfortunate, the events.
Closure, she seeks.
Darkness, she finds.
Hidden in lies.
a Sinner in Disguise.
Pieces of me; still Untitled.
“It had been a few days since the dream. The intensity of her feelings towards them had faded and the pining had subsided.
She logged onto Facebook during her break and saw he had commented on a mutual friend’s post, and that she had commented shortly after. Two days ago, she would’ve struggled with herself, debating whether she too, should comment, just so her name would show up in their respective ‘notifications.’ But not today. She continued scrolling. She didn’t want to see her name alongside theirs anymore. She no longer felt a knot of conflict and longing in her stomach. In fact, she felt nothing. The journey which initially (and always) started as sweet reminisce went through bitter revelations before arriving at indifference. In two days she had gone through the entirety of her relationship with them. Re-living both, the best and worst days of their time together.
Did her bleeding heart bleed itself out of all emotion and affection for them? Or did it shut down in self preservation? Or, did reasoning and logic give her a swift kick in the ass? She couldn’t tell, she never could. Yet, she was amazed at the strength and consistency of the cycle to compel such emotional extremes even after all this time had passed.
At least they’re not as long and as frequent as they used to be, right?
She cheekily smiled to herself and her ability to laugh at the situation. She had almost lost hope that a day would come when she wouldn’t be plagued with their memories. She shook her head in relieved disbelief and returned to work. This cycle had passed, but she wasn’t so naive to think it was the last.”
“She felt herself sinking, drowning in the depths of her own dark side. She wanted to give in and let it take over… It had been so long since it had reared it’s head in her business, but over the past week it had become relentless. She didn’t want to fight it anymore.
Preoccupied with the conversations in her own head, she had slowly, but successfully isolated herself. It was only a matter of time before the others noticed.
Maybe they already had? Maybe they just couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it?
She heard the sneering from within.
How could they save you?
She wasn’t sure she could be saved anymore. Hell, she wasn’t sure she wanted to saved anymore.”