She’s sat on the swing, glass in hand, swaying in time with her choking sobs. She cries something out loud, but her voice is suppressed, strangled by her anguish.
Drunk more on emotion than what’s in her glass, her hazel eyes red with the stinging caress of vicious tears. No one knows she’s out here, and if they did they wouldn’t care.
She can hear them now, their laughter mingling with yet another offering from the jukebox. If her absence has been noticed, it would only warrant the usual undirected question: ‘where’s she?’
It hadn’t always been like this. Only four weeks previously she had been part of that laughing, raucous crowd. Part of a couple as well. Now she was just an outsider. Bitter, twisted and overflowing with pain.
How could he just sweep away the time they had spent together? She had let him into her world, given him her heart, and he had taken it gratefully. Now, having destroyed it, he gave it back. Their love, once so beautiful, now ground to dust and blowing away like the sands of time.
She tried to hate him for all he had done, but found there was a very thin line between love and hate. Walking it like a tightrope, her emotions wavered with every faultering step.
Each time she saw him, she needed him. The urge to throw her arms around him and never let him go did not subside, but something gave her the strength to hold back, even though it was killing her.
She felt that once open and warm circle of friends closing ranks, shutting her out. No one wanted to hear her side of things. No one was prepared to let her talk.
And so she sits on the swing, with only the wind for company, trying not to drown in her tears. Their love, if ever it had existed for him, had come to the end of the line.
I Grieve... 