and i'm not the girl you'd want to be in love with, because i'm far from beautiful, far from graceful, far from girlie, far from everything you ever wanted to see in your girl. and i'm not the girl...
she repeated the sentence over and over and over and over again, as if drunk in her very own words. her heart cracks, breaks, shatters. he had done nothing but smile, yet he has succeeded in breaking her fragile heart, which was big, for she was a tall, boyish girl, and it only made it hurt a lot more. no words has been said by anyone, but she smiles as he smiles when she is crying inside. no one sees the faint hint of misery on her expression, not even the best friend, who had her own string of problems to deal with. she can only hope time runs, sprints away from her so she can run away, far from this place where no one can see her cry and foulmouth.
her self-esteem once again broken, but most friends are more than tired to fix her back into who she was before. the friends are finally exhausted from telling her nice things, giving her hope and love, mending her back, stitch after stitch. the girl never learns, always running into love and breaking herself apart. she thought she was strong, she thought she could handle every ounce of pain and sorrow driven back at her.
she thought.
a minute felt like an eternity to her. time passes so slow, so sarcastically, as if to laugh at her stupidity, as if to wake her up from her deafness when she's with her friends, to make her listen, as if to teach her a lesson, to let her go through this painstaking heartbreak slow and long, so she'd understand, so she'd learn to slow down.
nothing helps.
the girl is broken yet again, and this time, no one is here to fix her.
no one is here to save her.
no prince charming, no willing friend, no caring family.
none.
the girl is left broken.
the girl is left broken. forever.
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