She hates her life

She hates her life.

She just resigned from her job.

All she wanted was to find her place.

All she wanted was to vent out her frustration to something that wouldn’t be hurt, wouldn’t talk back, that would not care less to anything she will say.

It was all a lie.

Head bowed, hiding behind straightened jacket collars, she trudged under the drizzle of morning rain. It was the almost the end of summer. The weather had started to veer away from the sunny atmosphere.

She didn't know where to stay for the remainder of the day. Emotionally burdened to have the incentive to find a new job, she opted to tire herself out by walking with no destination in mind.

She loves to walk. Under extreme heat or shivering cold, feeling the movement and the elements work against her calms her mind. It is the only task where she could place her body on auto mode, without qualms on her surroundings simce her senses has memorized the place of her heart. The city. The life of her world.

The only place she has, even though it hurts for her to stay.

She hates the city she’s in.

Every nook and corner could bring a lot of memories, good and bad, making her heart ache even more.

She wants to walk far away. Away from everyone she knows, from everyone she’s used to, from everything that knows her. She wants to be free. She wants to soar.

She wants to die.

She wants to die from the heartache, from the redundancy of everything there is. She wants to get away from the responsibilities. She wants to drown herself in a tidal wave. She wants to fall from the sky with no parachute. She wants to drive recklessly over a cliff. She wants to hurt herself.

Her greatest wish is to have the simple freedom of not to think of anything even for a moment… and to not have any fear of the consequences.

The drizzle had started to pour. A bit drenched, she took shelter under a small coffee shop’s doorstep. She rubbed her stiff hands and blew on them while surveying the shop's exterior. Her eyes glanced a bit on the shop’s window towards a table of a small family.

There were four of them. The mother spooned some food to the boy toddler beside her. The father and daughter laughingly chatted on the other side of the table, twirling their forks in their spaghetti. The daughter has some sauce on her chin and her father lovingly wiped them off with a table napkin. The daughter kissed her dad on the cheek in gratitude and they continued on laughing.

She couldn’t take her eyes on them. They were a happy sight to see against the gloomy atmosphere slowly surrounding the city. They had laughter, smiles, and companionship. They had the simple gift of harmony, one thing she is envious of.

Her heart swelled from the pretty picture. Taking her eyes off them, she bowed her head and gently crossed her hands across the upper part of her chest. She could feel it, the familiar blossoming ache from within her. She placed a bit of pressure to her chest to ward it off, but to no avail.

She raised her head and looked around. She observed the people passing by the shop, noting the color of their coats, the shape of their hairs, the accessories on their neck, the luggage they had. She scrutinized the shape and brilliance of the cars passing by. She followed the path of a stray cat as it entered a nearby alleyway, apparently hunting for its latest meal.

Try hard as she might, she couldn’t stop her head from glancing at the same table. This time, she didn’t fight it. She felt the pain again and a bit of wetness on her eyes. She was able to control the tears from falling, but her eyes blurred and her throat tightened.

Unknown to her, a familiar shape has been watching from a restaurant nearby.

He had never seen her with a sad face. At all the times they crossed path, her eyes had always held sparks from laughter or anger. Her eyes spoke of confidence, mirth and humor.

But she has never told him anything of her true self. Because of this, he is in complete darkness on how to reach her. She always seemed to hide something.

He doesn't know why but he wants to know more of her. He wants to see her secrets. He wants to unravel her complexity.

He wants to know the answer why he often thinks of her.

Taking his cellphone out of his coat, he pressed on a button and placed it on his ear.

"Hello? I want you to follow her. Find out as much as you can without her noticing. I'll expect a report asap."

With that, he stood up, threw some bills on the table and stepped out into the restaurant, crossed the street and grinning, tapped on the shoulder of his favorite victim.

She sharply turned her head and her eyes grew wide when she realized who it was.

The grin died from his face upon seeing unshed tears in her eyes.

"Oi," he leaned closer, "have you been crying?"

"Eh? You're weird." she stammered, quickly turning to rub the wetness from her eyes with the back of her palm. She turned back with a glare, "If you please excuse me, I have somewhere important to go to."

Even with rain still pouring, she went into it and quickly walked away from him, not looking back.

He remained standing, watching her back. "One day," he murmured.

He stepped into the rain and walked to the other direction.

Two individuals parted under the tearful sky of destiny. One hiding, the other pursuing. One ensues confidence, the other secretive.

Time will tell if the one who pursues will ever catch the other, and if he will ever accept the secrets he longed to hear.