A teenage Sol bolted out of her house, running onto the road shoeless with gravel-stained white socks. Her hair whipped in the air.
The desperation kicked in, running even faster, throat burning as she began to let out loud sobs.
She was losing her breath, and her hope.
"Please wait for me, I love you!" she stopped, screaming out to the departing car headed to the state airport, never to be seen for years in her hometown again. She broke down on the main street, crying her heart out.
It wouldn't have been the first time she'd cried like a newborn over him. No, definitely not the first. Having a teetering relationship with him, and she was almost certain she had some form of personality disorder, was extremely hard. For starters, He'd always had lots of female friends. He had more female friends than Sol herself, and she wouldn't have gone as far as to call herself a loner in highschool, absolutely not. She had quite the nice circle. He just happened to have quite the nicer circle.
Or pentagon. Octagon. Or like, a myriagon. A shape with 1000 sides, each to represent every single one of his snobbish, stuck-up friends.
They'd never officially broken up when he'd left the town. He just, told her he was leaving and left.
Sol was dangerously crushed.
