Single and Broken
Her eyes wandered from left to right and the crowd seemed to betray her. It was crammed with pairs of matching threads and handsome guys offering cotton candies to their beautiful girls. It was suffocating enough to let her realize that she was alone, her shrinking violet self had made her a tower in defense from socializing.
Single and broken. Isn't she used to be happy? She's not committed nor she never love commitments. But she was broken inside, up at a stage called recognizing what her heart truly wants. She was ashamed of herself not even getting her own kind of man who will also give her her favorite flavor of cotton candy, hugging her at stampedes so she would not losen up from their tie. She was jealous of girls smiling as they stare at their phones, seeming to get another boyfriend-duties-of-making-butterflies-in-their-stomach task.
She sighed. She don't know what it is that is keeping her to think. She used to be academically-constrained, a nerd to be exact, but the mere thought of being around with people crazy in love came off as a challenge for her to atleast put powders in her pimpled face and put balm on her dry lips.
She is broken and you can never blame her. She felt ugly, she's always seen stressed and grumpy. She just wanted to be love that she turned out changing herself to get noticed admitting the fact that there are really people whose basis are the looks but never the heart.
