Last One to Cry

She sat in the shadows, motionless. Her mirthful eyes gleamed with unshed tears. She asked herself of all the things she did in the past that made her suffer.

The darkened corner had been her refuge. It listened to all her angst, her worries, her fears… the hall was her sole protector. She felt safe in that dark place.

She remembered the past… all her struggles.. all her triumphs and defeat. She had always been strong. She didn’t want to show how weak she was. She hid all her anger and pain. She never let anyone see through her façade.

She used to laugh at people who would cry because of their problems. For her, crying is a sign of weakness… of not having enough strength. She would never shed a tear. She was strong… she never needed anyone to have strength. Or so she thought… that was until she met him.

He came to know her… he became her confidante. She trusted him, up to the point of learning to love him. She was happy with him… until he left her.

He left a scar for her to heal. It still aches each time she remembers him. She never knew she could feel such numbing pain… he had always brought happiness to her. He let her believe that he loved her… but that faded all too soon… the pain he left her scathed her whole being.

The scar remained with her, reminding her of her mistake… of her loving him… Each time she remembered, the scar would be like a fresh wound… causing her to feel the same pain again and again.

Warm liquid raced down her cheeks. She touched it… her silence gave way to moans and sobs. She tasted the salt of tears and found the act stupid… unforgivable... she may never know it… but she has become the person she hated… and so it was her.

She was the last one to cry…

2005, reposted - originally created May 8