And To Feel;

    She read the text message again, eyes slower this time, ears listening, heart speeding.





    She wanted to ask why, why this had to happen. But she didn't, of course. She was one who accepted easily under nearly every circumstance. Why should this be any different?





    But it was. She flipped her phone shut and stuffed it in her pocket, fingers fidgeting, teeth gnawing her bottom lip. Anxiety pummeled her that moment, and she had never hated it as much as she did then. She was a fighter, a survivor, but she was in unchartered territory. She didn't recognise this place.





    Faith. Faith was holding her up, leading her by the hand but she wanted to take off the blindfold, wanted to know where faith was leading her now. She needed faith, but she wasn't sure if faith needed her, and she was frightened, so terrified.





    But she held on. Because she believed. Because she was a believer. Because, otherwise, she'd have nothing, nothing to clutch, to grasp, to hang on for dear life right now. She glanced at the text message again, taking it in, taking it all in. The words, his voice, his worry and rage; it was hers, whether he wanted it to be or not.





    She smiled when she saw him, a couple of minutes, hours, days later, but he didn't see it, didn't see the smile and she turned away, laughing hollowly with someone else. To ask or to stay back; she wrestled, wrestled violently and received scars and bruises instead. She smiled, more timidly this time, and he returned it, and somehow it just made her heart break that tiny bit more.





    But she was a fighter, a survivor. She was also lost, scared and worried. But at least, at least she was there.