Wednesday 29 August 2012

Lost

You won’t call. 

You never do. 

To you the incident was trivial, inconsequential; one of those silly feminine moments that seemed slightly overemotional. In your mind, it was something that would blow over quickly. Something that didn’t warrant your attention. 

So you don’t call. 

She won’t show you her tears. 

She never does. 

To her, it is almost a battle – a show of weakness almost, and her pride won’t let her cry in front of you. She walks away instead and she feels like she’s being pushed away. Like she’s something trivial, inconsequential – just another moment in which she felt unloved. 

But she does cry over all those things that you felt didn’t warrant your attention, tears of frustration more than anything else. 

She won’t show you her tears. 

So you go on, as does she, and one day the balance will splinter. Those small things will add up. She will realize that she deserves someone who is worth her tears. You will realize that somewhere along the line, both of you stopped communicating. And so it ends, in the way that so many other love stories have ended before. 

A battle lost.

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