She sat on the edge of her bed and let the tears fall. They were hot with fury as they rolled down her cheeks. She crushed the sheet of paper she was holding. She just couldn't take it anymore.
She flung the crushed piece of paper across the room and slipped onto the floor, wailing.
She was so sick of it. So disgusted; so exhausted.
All she wanted to do was to hide somewhere, shake off all her worldly responsibilities and take time to heal her broken heart.
She was tired of always having to make the first move. She was tired of the guys who chatted her up, only to tell her later that they had girlfriends. She was tired of hoping and wishing that there will be that one guy who will make it all better - that guy was too busy making someone else's life better. She was tired of waiting to be noticed. She was so sick of it all that even her tears didn't make anything better.
She curled up on the floor and weeped. She cried for all the times she was made a fool; she cried for every time she believed in a guy. She cried for every single memory that was etched in her heart. She cried for her hopelessness - her shattered beliefs.
As she cried, a part of her died and got washed away in those tears. The memories flashed across her eyes, putting her into a daze. She let all her pain, embarrassment, sorrow, hurt, rejection and wounds pass through her. She felt every emotion intensely - she writhed uncontrollably.
She was done with this.
And as she lied there, limp and exhausted, she felt hollow and empty - incapable of trust or emotion from now on.
