Windowsill

The cup was burning her hands, but she held it more and more tightly; maybe that stinging pain would numb the inner one. The lowering sun of the afternoon darkened the room at the same pace that her mind swirled down into a bottomless pit. The big city stuffed with people surrounded her building, yet she felt so alone. The book in front of her didn't distract and engulf her enough to make the torture by her thoughts stop. Her full attention was on her phone.

"It's been days," she thought to herself. It's been days since she last talked to him, to her friend. It may have started out as a friendship and then as something more, and she had to admit those were her first intentions. She even got to like him. But since that day, everything started getting worse, they both said some hurtful stuff without meaning to. Now she could only see him as a friend and she wanted him to be part of her life. The problem is that he didn't know that. She tried to explain that to him. She didn't know why the receiver never got the message. He said goodbye and although she missed him a lot, she was waiting for him to talk to her. Why? Because she did everything she could for him not to go away, even though she messed up in the process. And now there was nothing left to do. Besides, if everything he said before that day was true, he would be in the same position as she is and would come back on his own. Or at least she hoped.

So there she was, waiting. Maybe that wait would be an eternal one, who knew? Unluckily for her, her mind would let her be for a bit. Thoughts and questions spin in her head, making her so nauseous that it was painful. And they were always the same ones: Does everything remind him of her? Did he check constantly his phone to see if she talked to him? Did the sight or mention of her cause an unbearable pain? Because this all happened to her.

He wasn't the first friend that she lost, and he won't be the last one. People always seem to leave her no matter what she did. But it didn't matter how many people left her life, she never got used to it; each time it was worse. How could someone in such little time become a big part of her life?

Tears started falling from her eyes. She unlocked her phone and checked for new messages. Nothing.

"Stop it! I'm tired of this!" She screamed as she banged her phone to the windowsill and stood up, wiping the burning tears. "He won't come back! Face it. All you got left to do now is move on but never forget him. That would be an insult. He was a lesson, learn it and used it for next time. But move on, what's the point in dwelling on the past?"

She grabbed her coffee and the book, left her cup in the sink and the book on the shelf. She had to do something with her life: find a new project, start a new hobby, anything to go on with her life.

"I know! I can start writing my trilogy. YES! I have some great ideas. Ohh, he will be so happy when I tell him that I.....UHGGGGG WHO CARES ABOUT HIM?!?"

She left the living room and headed to her bedroom to grab her computer. She was about to open the door when her phone laying the windowsill notified her that she had a new message. Her head turned that way in a blink of an eye, her expression was filled with hope.

"You do."