Fallen

She would forget. She knew that. She would forget, as he already did.

When the one who made you breaks you, it leaves a scar. This time, she wasn't so sure that she'd survive this. He left his mark. Playful eyes, a curved smile, the cleft on his chin, the short messy hair on his head. She couldn't forget. It kept replaying, the only thoughts that could bring a smile to her face were his. She lived, her lips in a constant frown.

Half of her wanted to fight for him. To stand up for what he made her feel. For pushing his way in through her shell and then leaving, just as suddenly. To confront him.

She couldn't. Futile.

His indifference hurt her more than she could understand. The change in his tone scared her. There was nothing left to hold on to. Still she did.

This story has no happy ending.

Once upon a time, she met him while on the verge of yet another breakdown. On an anonymous app where she could vent her feelings without compromising her identity. She didn't think, she let it all out. The knowledge that she was confiding in a stranger, making her brave. Just so that she wouldn't cut too deep when she did. That was an inevitable end to her day. The scars lined up, one after another, parallel to each other, hidden beneath the holy sacred thread that she had around her wrist.

The blood would seep into the thick red thread, wrapped six times around her thin wrist.

Nobody Noticed.

The ones she talked to didn't care, and so she could be herself with them. All the sadness that flowed out of her, went unnoticed, and so she could be. She could take off the mask of laughter that she'd donned for the sake of the world. And for once....she could just be.

She didn't expect him. He cared, or it seemed like he did. He was exceptional at faking. Made her believe when she'd chosen not to believe in all those before. He was the light at the end of a tunnel.

Different. He got her angry, pushed her to the edge, and brought her back. He saved her, made her save herself. He was...different. Insufferable, yet kind. A bundle of contradiction. He had no reason to help a stranger, but he did. He kept on pushing her, criticizing her, saving her. Her reality check, that was him, then and now. He was her guardian angel, who saved her no more. He was her cure turned poison.

Now as he ignored her, she realized how wrong yet right she'd been all along.

Her conclusion, people were disgusting. He was wrong, she was right.

He'd made her believe that not everyone was bad, convinced her of how wrong she was to think that way. But then he left, just like that, just like everybody else she'd remotely cared about.

He left her for someone new, someone with handle-able issues, less needy, less desperate, someone better. She wasn't enough for him. She was mad. A psycho, an annoying immature idiot. 'Clueless dumb idiot' he'd said, 'with a good heart.' That was her for him. It wasn't his fault that she got too troublesome. She was a stranger. It was better that way.

Her good heart was not enough. There was no way he could ever be with someone like her, not even as friends.

So he ignored her, her calls, her messages, her very person. And so she must as well. But how?

When everything, everything reminded her of him, when every thought led back to him, when he was there all around, in every breathe, in every face, every thought, and every shape..., how?? She would never be with him, but she wanted him. More than ever. She needed him, so she told him the truth in a message. For a clean break, to move on. Behind harsh cold words, her feelings laid bare. He didn't reply. So she called him the next day, at the time he used to call her everyday till a few weeks ago. His phone was engaged.

. . .

She took a pillow to hide her face, to stifle her own sobs. She thought she would cry . Her laughter surprised her, shaking her whole frame with silent giggles. She couldn't stop. She kept on laughing, with tears running down her cheeks.

That last string. 'snap'

She was done. She wished everyone dead. She wished whoever he was talking to death, in the most insufferable torturous way possible. She wanted him to suffer. She wanted everyone to suffer. She hated everyone, her family, god...everyone. Bitter, her heart was bitter and spiteful. She didn't want to do good again. She wouldn't let anyone in. She wanted it all to end. And if she could somehow make someone else's life just a teeny tiny bit more miserable than it already was, she would. She would without an inch of guilt.

She would sell her soul to the devil. Write it away. She wouldn't mind an eternity in hell, it was all the same anyway.