Los Versos Mas Tristes
She sat on the ledge of her window, pressed her face against the glass and looked out into the rain that poured unrelenting from the heavens. Inside, she felt a hollowness deep in her chest that she couldn't explain. The tears have swelled to the proportions of the Niagara but she reins them in, refusing to allow them to flow a river down her made up cheeks. The music from her radio played loud, she hoped it would drown the screaming in her head.
She has set the rules to her game. Games she had so far refused to play but gave it a chance just once. Once never hurt anybody, she told herself. Stick to the rules and you will not get hurt. Play, not get burned. An anonymous solitaire with a hand to spare.
Hello was across a roomful of strangers amidst tea and coffee. Goodbye was not even a glance back from the subway car that moved on as she stepped out of Grand Central. A face, not even familiar, not to be seen again.
A heartbreak, she realized is how a dull pain throbs with each heartbeat. And she wasn't trying to poetic. It is real and she can feel exactly where her hurt dwells in her chest.
"I know that goodbye means nothing at all," Maroon 5 crooned from the radio, of a girl who has secrets that only one man shares. But that she was never really his, she always belonged to someone else.
She wants to belong, but he hadn't asked. Maybe he had been the right one - the one she had waited for all this time. Or maybe not.
She looks out at the city. How insignificant her thoughts to a million other people whose lives have their own hurts and pains and tears. She will survive, and she will be loved. Maybe by the right one.
For a while, allow nothing to make sense. Not even this entry.
She has set the rules to her game. Games she had so far refused to play but gave it a chance just once. Once never hurt anybody, she told herself. Stick to the rules and you will not get hurt. Play, not get burned. An anonymous solitaire with a hand to spare.
Hello was across a roomful of strangers amidst tea and coffee. Goodbye was not even a glance back from the subway car that moved on as she stepped out of Grand Central. A face, not even familiar, not to be seen again.
A heartbreak, she realized is how a dull pain throbs with each heartbeat. And she wasn't trying to poetic. It is real and she can feel exactly where her hurt dwells in her chest.
"I know that goodbye means nothing at all," Maroon 5 crooned from the radio, of a girl who has secrets that only one man shares. But that she was never really his, she always belonged to someone else.
She wants to belong, but he hadn't asked. Maybe he had been the right one - the one she had waited for all this time. Or maybe not.
She looks out at the city. How insignificant her thoughts to a million other people whose lives have their own hurts and pains and tears. She will survive, and she will be loved. Maybe by the right one.
For a while, allow nothing to make sense. Not even this entry.