Darkness surrounds her as the tears finally begin to stream down her face.
Her walls are down. She is alone. All alone once again.
She lets the pain, the hurt, the anger flow through her body. It’s been building since the moment she awoke, calling out his name in fear of having lost him. But if she’s truthful with herself it’s been longer than that. It’s been building since she found him, shot and bloodied in the back seat of her beloved mini cooper. She had lost him before she truly got to have him.
The tears are coming down faster, harder, as she tries to calm her breath. But she can’t. She lets her breathing get heavier and harder, as more tears flow from her eyes. She lets herself grieve. Just for a moment.
Her heart hurts. Her head hurts. Her body hurts. It hurts more than she ever thought it could, because for a moment, for a few hours she let herself believe. Believe that she was enough. That she was enough to be loved. That she could have it all. She had let herself believe that she had found her brooding prince charming, her other half, her soul mate. She had let herself believe that she has truly found her home, her sanctuary, with him. She had let herself believe that she could have a life filled with this all-consuming, all-powerful love that served as the basis of great love stories and songs. She had let herself believe the words that he said those many months, said in the guise of deceiving Slade, were true. She had let herself believe the love that she saw in his eyes at the restaurant and in that hallway right before their kiss, a hallway that was so frequently inundated with love, was true.
She let herself believe that love was enough. She let herself believe that she was enough to be loved.
But now she knows better. She knows that love is not always enough. She is not surprised.
This isn’t her first time at this rodeo. She’s been here before.
Her father, the first of many, had shown her that love was not always enough. That she wasn’t enough.
So she lets the tears come. She lets her tears, her pain, her anger lull her into a deep dreamless sleep.
In the morning she reverts back to what she knows, what she has always fallen back on when tears like these fall. She lets herself know that she is enough. That she does not need someone else to validate her sense of self. That she does not need someone else to tell her she needs to be dependent on their love.
She is enough. She will always be enough. She refuses to let his words, his touches, his kiss, his rejection define her worth.
She is enough, even when she feels like she isn’t.