Eccedentesiast.

Failures pushed her. She saw no hope. It wasn’t a great day; but like most of the days she felt what nobody ever understood. ‘Building special memories?’, she thought was just a misnomer. The urge to scream ended up with nail marks on her hand. The clutter she had built ended up with blood on the floor. And the dark days ended up with wet pillows at night. 

It wasn’t the end of her life. It wasn’t the good time either. But she had waited enough for the beautiful days to come back, she had waited enough for the people around her to understand how harsh it feels on hearing those words, she had waited enough for those special people to come back in her life, she had waited too long; this just had to happen. 

The pressure of scheduled tests wasn’t easy to handle. And those thoughts, those words rang in her ear every single time she opened the books. Fudgeling, made it worse. 

Life was challenging her. And it had been too long, she failed and was left in a worse state.

Her heart ached. Her strength was lost. She needed someone to hug her and say they’re there for her. She needed someone to stay. She needed a little love. She needed to breathe.

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