"How can I stand here with you, and not be moved by you? Would you tell me, how could it be, any better than this?" The song played on the coffee shop radio. She stopped sipping her coffee and concentrated on the song. She felt the tornado building inside her, her demons waking up and her stepping into the eternal gloom. She hated the dichotomy between her situation and the song. Her stomach twisted and she wanted to run back to home. But for her home didn't exist anymore. Home didn't have a heartbeat anymore.
Almost, that's the petrifying word. Almost full, almost done, almost happened, almost reached, almost said, almost together. She had read so many book but none of them had the remedy for the ache of a broken heart.
Rain began to fall softly making New York look even more beautiful. She paid for the coffee and stepped out of the coffee shop thinking, Was she ever going to come out of it? Was she ever going to find peace? Was she ever going to heal? Was she ever going to be happy?
Even though her mind flooded with the questions, her heart knew the answer.
Maybe.
And 'maybe' isn't a pretty word.
Almost, that's the petrifying word. Almost full, almost done, almost happened, almost reached, almost said, almost together. She had read so many book but none of them had the remedy for the ache of a broken heart.
Rain began to fall softly making New York look even more beautiful. She paid for the coffee and stepped out of the coffee shop thinking, Was she ever going to come out of it? Was she ever going to find peace? Was she ever going to heal? Was she ever going to be happy?
Even though her mind flooded with the questions, her heart knew the answer.
Maybe.
And 'maybe' isn't a pretty word.
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