Begin Again

the overture.

She glared at the television in front of her as her eyes did nothing but yield tears of sorrow and confusion.

The screen displayed a movie that would tickle the hearts of those who have someone special in their lives and yet, she is not one of them. She will never be.

She turned off the device and tossed the remote control to nowhere. With faltering steps, she led herself to her bedroom.

Wiping beads of tears that were stuck between her cheeks, she sniffed the snot that tried to break loose from her nostrils. Inside her, she thought the crying nevertheless made her weak, sick and ugly and it was undeniable.

As she got inside, she threw her body to the queen-sized bed that was shoved at the far corner of the room. She draped over her body the blue duvets that wrapped the mattress she was lying on.

She stayed supine and examined the empty ceiling. It was painted white and cracks caused by weathering were evident on the corners.

Cracked just like my heart, she thought to herself and then the tears came again.

She used the pillows to cradle the tears that escaped her eyes. She touched the pillow's soft and damp surface, fingering it so delicately as if it was porcelain.

She knew those tears would all run dry someday and she would then be crying for a book, not a man.

She heaved out an exhausted sigh and let the tears fall. She knew she'd lose nothing if she let herself be vulnerable for a day.

She stood up and got from her bedside drawer, a ticket.

Damon Rouge: Enticed - An Art Exhibit.

She would come not to adore him and his works, she has done that everyday of her life. She would come to say goodbye.

It would be the first time in a along while that she'd be doing something for herself.