It was as if she was stood in the middle of a storm. All her emotions were rushing inside her, so fast, she could barely keep up. But she felt as if she had been punched in the chest over and over again. She felt wounded – stupid. Putting down her phone, her face remained dropped, as she got ready for the day. Make yourself up, and plaster a smile on your face. She told herself, as she stood in front of the window, holding up her mirror, applying the foundation over her pale cheeks. As she finished getting ready, the lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed thickly, trying her best to ignore it. Getting her things together, she shrugged on her winter coat, and she zipped it up, picking up her cream handbag, and her transparent, blue folder, and she opened the front door. Walking out and locking the front door, she then stuffed her keys into her bag, walking down the street; her eyes trained to the pavement. The cold air hit her, but not as much as she wished. It wasn't as cold today, like all the other days. On another different occasion, this would've been a good thing. But she wanted to feel something – anything. Anything that wasn't rejection or humiliation.
As she sat there on the bus, her eyes glued out of the window ahead of her, her eyes narrowed, as the picture of his face came into her head. She imagined different scenarios: punching him in the face, ignoring him, confronting him. But as soon as they entered her mind, they instantly disappeared. Memories of she and him together, smiling at each other, their little looks, everything; it entered her mind. She wished it didn't make her better. In fact, she wished she could laugh about it. Because all she wanted to do was cry. She felt embarrassed, and she felt stupid. The more she thought about it. Really thought about it. Were all the signs there? Was it really as obvious as checking his FaceBook page? She gritted her teeth together, trying her hardest to focus on the lyrics of the song that she was listening to, but there were too many questions in her head. Could she face seeing him again, and acting as if everything was normal? Would he notice that she was acting different with him? Will her feelings change the second she sees him again? She was a soul filled with mixed emotions, not knowing what's right, and what's wrong.