Just because I can't feel,
doesn't mean this doesn't hurt.

It came to her attention this morning while she was presuming with her regular schedule. Breathing was just a chore nowadays, something she didn't even think about. Did anybody think about breathing anymore? Wasn't it just one of those things that had to be done day in and day out as a process of life? But what if your breath was taken from you? A man holding a knife to your throat as he takes your possessions, but more importantly, your innocence. She shivers once at the thought of the evidence of that man that had once grown inside her. As her husband walks through the kitchen, she glances at him, but does not smile, and for a moment, she relishes in the life they've had together. He had always treated her good, for their first 10 years of marriage; they were young and stupid, but had somehow managed to make it work. She had had three miscarriages, and as a result of the third one, they had stopped trying. There was no use, so at the age of 31, she was not a mother, but just a wife, if you could even call it that. Her husband reached for her hand, squeezed it gently, kissed her on the cheek, and walked out the door. This was their routine every morning. After he left, she would get ready for her day, the day that it was. She didn't do much of anything. This morning felt different. She got ready fairly quickly and walked out the door. She disregarded the car her husband had bought her that she hardly ever used. She didn't put that hard-earned degree to use like she had originally planned. She remembered when she was young and in love with another, how they had talked of going to college so they could be together. And then he found her, and she forgot all about her first love. She did not know why she forgot; maybe it was just easy to forget about something she had worked so hard at. The drastic irony of the situation was that she knew she wasn't over it. She knew where he resided, an apartment in the city. Her feet were walking 10 steps ahead of her mind. Was she ready for this? Her answer I could tell you would be unsure. But her hesitation was all she needed. And she needed to know. He had a girlfriend, or at least that last time she had had any contact with him, he had. And she even knew the girl, but that didn't matter. She just needed to see him, maybe speak a few words to him, and be on her way. She arrived at his building. Apartment 26. She remembered. She sat on the bench outside, waiting for her mind to catch up with her feet. Her feet had gotten there; it was now up to her mind. A man held the door open for her as she walked inside. She got on the elevator. "Floor 2," she said politely to the gentleman. She stepped off, trying to slow her pace. She reached his door, and with a deep breath, she knocked. At first she heard nothing, presuming he must be at work. But then he heard footsteps and a lock click, and soon she was face to face with an unfamiliar face. "Hello," she said, looking at her curiously. "Hi." The woman invited her in, and as weird as it may have seemed, she accepted. "Are you looking for my boyfriend?" She asked. "I'm guessing that depends on who your boyfriend is. I can tell you that I am looking for a man, however, and it would be my guess that he is, in fact, your significant other." She furrowed her brow. "He's still asleep, I'm afraid, but I can wake him up if it's urgent." She shook her head. "No. Please don't do that. I just needed to see him, but now that I'm here, my reasons have left the building. I'll just leave." She stood up to leave, but the woman's words stopped her. "You're Ella, aren't you?" She turned and nodded. "Yes, I am. You know me?" She shook her head. "Not personally, although I have heard a great deal about you from him." She nodded once more. "To tell you the truth, I don't know why I'm here. I just feel a little lost is all." The woman seemed confused by this. She looked older than her, but maybe everybody did nowadays. She felt so naive compared to everyone. "Well, we all need a little finding every once in a while. Let me see what I can do," she said, standing up and going in the back of the apartment. She was doing exactly what she had wanted her to do, but didn't think she would. Her beat quickened, nervousness over this? You're over the stupid butterflies in your stomach, but somehow, he always manages to give them to you. He was walking out of the back of the apartment when she looked up and spotted him. When their eyes met, she could tell she was not what he was expecting at all. "Oh my god," he whispered, "What are you doing here?" "I needed to see you," she replied, "just to talk. I'm not here to ruin your life or anything." With the statement, she chuckled, and then realized it may have been out of place. He sat down next to her and grabbed her hand. She hastily let him, not wanting the girl that was there to start assuming things. "What do you need?" He asked, with a soft tone. She paused for a long while, put her head down, and then back up again. "What I need is for you to tell me why I'm here. I walked here from my house, not even thinking; knowing that I needed to go somewhere, but not sure of where. My feet led me here, but my mind knew it was wrong. Don't you see? My mind and body contradict one another and that is what's wrong with me. Why couldn't I have been better? Why couldn't I have realized all those years ago that my feet were contradicting my mind?" He sighed and rubbed his face, which looked like it had not been shaven in a few days. "Don't you believe everything happens for a reason?" She nodded in response. "Yes, but who says it was the right reason?" "That's not up to you. If you have to ask me why you're here, then you don't really need a reason. You know exactly why you're here; you just want me to know too. I can't give you the answers anymore." She shook her head. "Okay, I guess I can leave then. I'll talk to you later." She stood up, and he stood up with her, walking her out. Her feet out the door, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into his embrace, catching her lips. She pulled away, and touched her lips where his had just been. "You're still beautiful, and I will always love you." She smiled at his words, and turned around, on her way.

To touch the aspect of fate, outside she walked across the crosswalk at the same exact moment a car had decided to run a red light. Oddly enough, if you had been there to witness at the right moment, you would have witnessed the death of a woman with the most content smile on her face you had ever seen.