Summery: When you look in the mirror...who do you see? The answer? Not me.
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He broke my heart - crushed it. It felt like my chest was ripped open, that someone stole my heart - plunged their hand right in, and rippedit out - and that it was sewed back up. I was hollow. Numb. I was glad for that - the numbness - because it meant that I wouldn't feel the betrayal. I wouldn't feel the pain, the not ever ending sadness. The tears flowed from my eyes. I didn't bother wiping them, new ones would replace them a second later. So, why bother? Yeah, why bother...
Nothing else matters to me anymore. Nothing.
Why? Oh, why did it have to be like this? Why did this have to happen? Why?
Those seemed like the only questions that flooded my brain. They mixed together forming something incoherent. I didn't bother trying to figure them out. I, frankly, didn't want to. All I would receive were a whole bunch of "whys", and I didn't want to question the whys.
Past memories of us flowed through my mind. I could feel my heart breaking with each one. Each endless happy memory crushing my heart into a thousand million, tiny pieces. Pieces that I couldn't put back together. Pieces that could never be mended...
I loved him. I still do...
But, he doesn't love me. He never has, I think. If he did, he would never have broken up with me. I should have known what I had got into when he asked me out. It was all an illusion. An illusion that I allowed myself to be placed in. A fake reality - but a wonderful one.
But, now, more than ever, I wanted that illusion back. It comforted me in the bad times. It made me believe in something I had been hoping would happen since I first saw him. It gave me hope, and me, being so foolish and gullible, played right into it.
The pain suffacated me, ripping out every organ in my body, stabbing me everywhere there was space.
What happened to my numbness? Is it gone? Why is it gone? I want it back. If it means that I wouldn't have to feel these terrible, horrible emotions, than I want that numbness back. What had I done to deserve this? What? I don't know why.
I felt like I couldn't breath. The pain was slowly choking me, taking my life away. I gasped for air.
Gulping, I finally managed to secure some air to help my lungs. I choked on my tears. It was just too much.
First, he broke up with me - tearing my heart in the process. Then, I almost die. Great. What else could happen? Oh, wait! I shouldn't say that. Great. Now, I've jinxed myself. Real smart, Sonny. Add, that in to the terrible things that have happened to me lately.
I sunk down onto the floor, glad that no one was around - that way no one could spot me in this state. Tomorrow, I will be back to my old self. I have too. I have too let him see that the breakup didn't affect me - no matter how much it did. But, deep down I knew that I couldn't. How can you just go back to being normal after a major break up from the person that you love? I don't know how. Do you? Does anyone know?
I have to be strong. I just can't let him see me like this. Knowing him, he might receive pleasure in seeing me in this state. Seeing me so messed up, thanks to him.
I spied the mirror. On impulse without thinking, I crawled over to it. Somewhere in the back of my head, I wondered, why am I crawling? I didn't pay much attention to it. I knew why. It was because I was weak. He broke my heart, and succeeded in breaking me.
I knew I wasn't invincible, but...
When I reached the mirror I slowly tried to stand. I grabbed the nearest object to lift myself. Slowly - my knees wobbled as i tried to stand, but I managed. I managed.
Why did I even want to stare in the mirror at my reflection? Why? I knew what I was about to find there, and it wasn't going to be a happy image. Why would I want to view myself in such a state? No one else would want to, so why do I?
When I looked in the mirror, who did I see? Easy. Not me. When I stared into the mirror I couldn't recognize myself. My initial thoughts were right. I shouldn't have seen myself. I was a mess. My hair was everywhere, sticking up in every direction. My makeup was smeared. My eyes were red, and puffy from crying.
Where had the brave girl gone? Where had the happy person vanished? Why wasn't she there?
Why was the girl that I kept seeing so lifeless, like she has no more reason to live? Like, she doesn't want to live. Why is it that there are bags under her eyes, like she hasn't slept in ages? Why is it that her clothes are all crinkled? Why is it that I couldn't recognize her?
Who is she?
I knew it was me, but I didn't want to recognize it. She couldn't have been me, but she was. I didn't want to be that dull, lifeless, boring girl in the mirror. I couldn't stand her. I didn't want to acknowledge that it was me, but my mind kept telling me over and over, whispering, It's you.
I was that dull, hallow girl. I was the girl in the mirror that looked like she a zombie. So lifeless... No will. No nothing. I was the girl with the dead eyes. What happened to the bright, full of life brown eyes? Now, they were dead, lifeless, brown eyes. I was her...
And I didn't want to be.
My eyes narrowed a little, as I tried to straighten myself out. The girl in the mirror slightly changed. Instead, of the slouchy, dull, lifeless, etc., girl, she was the straight radiating weak confidence signals, dull girl. I had made up my mind.
I wasn't going to be that girl...
And I wasn't going to show anyone her either...
Because, if Sonny Monroe is one thing, it's not weak.
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a/n: So? Good? Bad? Review. ;]