Title: Self Medication
Summary: Sometimes only you are the one that understands what you need to hear.
Word Count: 250ish. xP I'm not lazy, really.
A/N: A few months old. That's all I'm going to say on this one.
-!-!-
Sakura's heart had been broken before, but that pain had been complete: the break itself was over and done with in a matter of seconds and the jagged pieces we able to be pieced together after a matter of time. She had never felt the exact biting, twisting and pulling-but-never-really-breaking torture of true, real heartache. As much as she may have longed for Sasuke, as much as she may have cried for him after he left her, as much as she may have strived to bring him back home, none of the hurt Sasuke caused her even came close to the pure ache she felt because of him.
How do you fix what isn't broken?
She wouldn't acknowledge the ache, though: never. She turned her nose up at how her stomach lurched in fright if his single, black eye wandered from her for the briefest moment during a conversation; she brushed aside any sudden desire she had to run her hands through his luscious silver hair when he was reading and not paying attention; she overlooked the flutter of her heart whenever he greeted her before acknowledging Naruto, or Sasuke, or Tsunade; she denied the burning blaze of jealousy that burst behind her eyes whenever he greeted Shizune, or Kurani, or Genma before he acknowledged her.
She ignored that he was the one she imagined occupying the empty space of her bed, on nights when her room seemed a little darker, and her bed seemed a little bigger.
"He was my teacher, once," she would whisper to herself, on the darkest of those nights, "I don't love him."