Her nails were painted black: The colour of her broken heart. It all made perfect sense- the little law of unbrokenness; one who has been broken is bound to break others as well. Envisioning a heartbreak with tears choked her up, but the sadness was not hers to feel. It was his. She felt as if all possible power had been drained from her. That which she had over the course, her love life. Being the perfectionist, this felt quite strenuous. Her heart must have been incredibly confused and perhaps awaited better days to come: The indifference being in the unpredictability of the current situation for she was leaving greener pastures for a land of no return; a destination to which she knew nothing. Perhaps that was what Abraham felt, the only incompatibility being that she had no voice that asked her to depart.

She picked her phone that lay unbothered on her work table and torn between declaring her love for the soulmate she perceived she had found or trying to sort issues regarding her relationship that was slowly crumbling down.

For the first time in her youthful bliss, regret surged in her veins. Maybe a little rewind on the life button could bring back her control. A recap that includes righting her wrongs, including those that greatly influenced not only her success with love but affection and also her long-gone sanity. Her heart’s bleeding felt as normal as breathing, and apparently, healing was not her go-to. She was accustomed to feeling emotionally dependent on this addiction of a man; broken but ever having an attractive smile plastered on her sweet face, scared but successfully forging ferocious courage and scarred to the core but still managing to limp playfully. For that good a cover-up, it was close to impossible for suitors to unravel her broken and distressed self for they came along and in huge masses.

She needed not jot a whole write-up to declare her relationship null and her feelings gone, but she did regardless. She was undoubtedly to blame for pushing things too quickly and getting involved with someone else before her heart found console in anything but him. She was not sure it would only take a sleepless tear-filled night and a pat on the back to get over such an affection: Not the one she shared with her partner but the one that had been running alongside her blood since she was a teen. It felt more real than it was dumb, and her optimism certainly got her thinking of keeping those flames ablaze.

From how things were taking a turn, she felt as though she had lost herself trying to figure out this mountain of a love life and self-love town was for sure her next stop. She did not hope for their escapades to recede but to be shared out to her being as well, her only hope to solving the myriad of self-declared life troubles; love being the most.