It was about two weeks since winter break had began and a week since she had last left her studio apartment. Her phone rang at least once every hour but it remained on the charging cord throughout the entirety of the day. Despite her friends and acquaintances constant attempts to contact her, no one had yet to arrive at her front door. Not that she would have answered anyways, it just seemed curious that no one had yet decided to check up on her in person.
At this point, she was afraid to let someone in- she was afraid to let anybody else in. It had been a little over two months since the person she had trusted the most shattered her heart into a million pieces. In the beginning, she was able to gracefully hold herself together. She continued to attend her lectures at the university, she was present for every club meeting, she didn’t skip out on weekly dance classes at the studio. She decided to live life as normally as possible, to numb the waves of pain that continuously came crashing onto her shore. But day after day, the little things started to build up until she finally started to see him in her sleep. Her dreams consisted of the two them, happy and together, eating dinner at their favorite restaurant or outside under a blanket of stars. But then the dream would always become twisted and dark. Often times, it would end with the ground splitting into two beneath her feet, and then she would watch herself as she fell into the darkness. She would wake up from these dreams yelling, drenched in sweat. It took hours to remind herself that none of it was real and by then, it was time to continue with her normal routine.
But one day, she broke. She decided to lay in bed for the entire day, then that day became three, and now a week. In reality, this was what she needed. Time to herself, time to be still. What she denied herself in the beginning was a time to feel. She thought that by keeping herself busy, she would be able to numb the pain or even get rid of it completely. As the seventh day away from human interaction dragged on, she started to feel again. Longing, sadness, a craving for curly fries and a shake. She started to clean her room, placing the mountain of used tissues and empty cups of instant noodles into a trash bag. She looked in the mirror after a much needed shower and saw a blob of mess, but she was beginning to see more of herself again. Just as she’s about ready to leave her place for the first time in a week, she hears a knock at the door. She opens it and sees him standing.
“Can I come in?”
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