Nothing could describe how she felt. Words were only words after all, and no words felt strong enough to describe the pain that had been building up inside.
Maybe it was because she felt so many things at once.
Maybe it was because she sometimes felt nothing at all.
She had changed at an alarming rate since she moved to Vegas. She had noticed, but did nothing to stop her destruction.
At times, she rather enjoyed watching herself fall to pieces.
At times, she hoped someone else would notice and save her.
Sometimes her friends would take time out of their busy lives to ask how she was doing.
Occasionally she was invited out for a drink.
Once she was invited out for dinner.
She put on a good show. It didn't take long for her friends to forget about how far she had fallen and continue with their lives.
She knew it was selfish and irrational to be angry with them for leaving her, since they never really left at all.
She still couldn't help but feel abandoned.
She didn't want to be noticed, but she wanted nothing more than for someone to take the bottle away from her hand and hold her until everything was right in the world.
She wanted nothing more than him to hold her.
She would love to be able to blame all her misery on him. As much as she wanted to be near him, she wanted to scream in his face.
She wanted him to realize what he did to her, and what he's still doing to her.
Sometimes she wanted to force him to look the empty liquor bottles, the aging scars on her wrists and the bags under her eyes.
Sometimes she wanted to be as invisible as she felt.
Sometimes she wanted the dreams to stop.
Sometimes she wanted to die.
