I looked into the mirror, seeing myself in the reflection, I uttered one word: Why?
Why do I have to pretend someone that I am not when I can be someone that I want to be?
Why had great things never ever happened to me?
Why do I have to be so kind blessing someone I care about when I knew he’s with someone else?
I wanted to throw my fist to the mirror as if hitting myself back. Is it what it is? Am I incapable of loving? What do I know about heartbreaking when I am incapable of loving?
The void in my heart is prickling each time I remind myself that.
Closing the door shut, and clamber into my bed holding close to myself, and holding back my tears and swallow the lump in my throat, telling myself “I am closing myself up. No emotions. No love. It’s heartbreaking even though I can’t afford to love.”