All there’s left is an empty feeling, where this connection once grew into a nice, but pointless pattern. And it’s gone now, with nothing to show for. Where do all the memories go? Not all things need to be labeled to exist, but it’s nice if they can be explained. Can this be explained? Only if you have an hour…
Was it painful? Surprisingly, no. There’s this sharp stab every now and again. Occasional wave of anger. Yet again, she has to deal with disposing feelings that can’t be categorized. Reminding her she started to care, once again. Other than that, it’s just empty space left inside of her. Knowing it was bound to happen and that it was the only right thing to do.
This type of incidents usually end in wallowing, but this time she can’t be bothered. It will pass, it always does. Eventually, she will start again. Eventually, maybe, she will pass the land of whatevers. Optimistic? Nah, not really. But she really doesn’t care anymore.
So, how do you get over something that never really existed? You don’t. It drifts away, by itself, in that black lake of whatevers, because it was never really anything there for you to hold on to. And all you can do, is just wave goodbye. ♥
*Story About a Girl is a collection of random midnight scribbles about life, written when brain just can’t shut down. Inspired by my own life and thoughts, telling a story through a third person.0