For Better Or Worse 2

She stared blankly at the computer screen and tried her hardest to think of what to put in her next story. But nothing came to mind. The response was always the same. Emptiness, Nothingness, complete blankness. Every since that night atop the roof, across from the bar, she felt as though he had taken her talent to write along with him. Maybe he was her inspiration. But, no, she had been writing from the time she was eight years old. That couldn't be it. Maybe he was everything she dreamed of. She'd written so many stories describing her dream guy and she thought she'd found him. But had she just made the biggest mistake of her life? She didn't end it to satisfy her hunger for another. She thought it was best. She couldn't take it any more.1

It was as though she was talking to a brick wall when it came to talking to him. She always felt as though he was shutting her out, not allowing her to get close to him. Maybe it was her insecurities, he had cheated before and she had let it slide but she never really trusted him fully since then. He had gotten a second chance, never mind he never saw it as that. She wasn't one for giving chances...yet she had done it with him.
He had seen it as hurting him but she was beginning to wonder if he had seen how there relationship had gnawed away at her. Losing her identity along the way. Forever she was going to be deprived of teenage years she'd never have. She'd lost or grown distant with most of her friends, for him. Never was she going to blame him but he held part of the reason. She had given him all and kept giving even if she didn't have anything left to give. She was in pain. She cared for him so badly yet he only saw him and that pained her even more.2

She sighed and glanced across at her phone. She thought about calling him but knew he wouldn't answer, wanted to hear his voice but knew he didn't care for that. Not anymore. She hung her head in her hands as even more tears came from already swollen eyes. The computer beeped, she looked up. He was online in her messenger. Two. Three. Ten.
Thirty minutes passed and he had said nothing to her. She hung her head and cried some more.
'Life', she thought,'Most people were as happy as they make up their minds to be.'
Raising her head, she wiped her tears. That was her line. That was her life story. She just needed the strength to write it. The outside world disappeared. Tears streamed down her face but she fought them.3


She needed to get over him.