It’s cold; the first winter snow has fallen. She wakes up, an hour later than what she planned, with swollen eyes from crying herself to sleep. She rolls out of bed and feels like she had just been hit by a bus. To the bathroom she walks head down like a battered little puppy. The lights get switched on but the reflection in the mirror is too much to bear so they go right back off. The only light shining in the room is from a little nightlight, half broken and on its last leg, just like her. The process of getting ready seems to be a bigger obstacle than she had thought.  The makeup is darker and heavier; not because she has someone to impress, but because she tries to hide that painful look on her face, like makeup can hide those dark circles around her eyes and the tears that are building up. Today was going to be a battle; one she didn’t know if she could win. The strength and hope she once had was gone, at least for now, and that was her fault. She did not try hard enough and that fact was going to eat at her all day, constantly gnawing at her, hoping to break if it could. The one she normally talked to was gone. He had been her rock, but like always, others became more important and soon she was nothing to him. She had been through this cycle so many times with her close companions, but she thought he would be the one to stay; as always she was not good enough. Yet, this was not what pained her on that cold December morning, her troubles reached far more beyond the loss of yet another close friend. She had gotten use to that and almost expected it to happen when she got close to other people. 

The wind is cold as she starts the long walk to class; however, she feels nothing. Her body is numb but not from the cold. She hopes the snow and coldness will help take down the swelling in her eyes. Her chest aches, not from the winter wind or the cold she has been battling, but from the struggle going on inside of her. This is harder than what she had thought it was going to be. The long walk sucks; it’s good for her though. She needs the time to just think and recollect on the past night’s events. How could she let that happen? Why was she not strong enough? Did she really think this was going to fix things? She only hoped it would. All she wanted was to go back to the way things use to be; where the love was strong and prevailing, where long kisses and affection was more common than the fights and arguments. It had become a routine, a robotic routine, and they were both just rolling through the motions.  She wanted to feel again, that’s all…something more than disappointment and unworthiness…something good would be nice…for once. All he had to do was wake up; wake up and realize what was slipping away from him. She didn’t want to fall away from him...it was just getting to hard to hold on…she couldn’t get a firm grip…it was like the past seven years was slipping through her hands like tiny grains of sand, blowing away in the wind.

They say distance makes the heart grow fonder. Whoever came up with that one obviously didn’t know about all the pain and agony the heart must go through first in order to get to that better place, and that’s if it ever gets there. She felt selfish for complaining about it. Some people have to overcome much in their relationships, but she wasn’t somebody else. He always tried to use that to his advantage, saying how lucky they were compared to some people. Yes, they found each other when they were so young; that made them special.  But now, now he makes her want to scream and yell and breakdown and cry, bawl her eyes out and beg…beg to have him back…the man he use to be. Where did he go? And why did he leave? Two questions she has asked herself many times throughout the past year. Was it her? Was she not enough for him? Did he deserve more?

She was never quite confident in herself. The reasoning behind this she was contemplating when she finally made it to her class. She's right on time as the professor walks in behind her. She likes this teacher, she is very outgoing and confident…she’s jealous and wishes she could be more like that. Class went by very slowing. She could not seem to focus on anything the class was discussing…something about stereotypes and multiculturalism. Any other day she would have felt very intrigued with the discussion, maybe even contributed a bit, but not today. Today her mind wandered; her mind was trying to comprehend so much at once it was as though she wasn’t even thinking at all. Just staring. Staring at the blackboard while the professor wrote down key points that would probably be on the next quiz. It was like everything was moving in slow motion around her and the voices of her peers formed together and all she could hear was a gentle buzz. She was off in her own little world, trying to shut everything out…she longed to go back to that place…the place where everything was good…She closes her eyes, and the world goes dark; it is here that she hides...and waits to be found.