She sometimes imagined what people would say about her the day she died. How would they react when they would learn the new, Who would be crying? who wouldn't? who would come to her funerals and who wouldn't. She tried to imagine those who would say good things about her and those who wouldn't and realized she couldn't. Who did that? who would think about their own deaths and think about the words others would say? Well..the woman couldn't answer the question, all she knew was that she did. Her brain did. Her brain took her to imaginary places at imaginary time periods.
She would have been dead. How? It didn't matter. She would have been dead and it would have been better. She would be wearing her best dress and would look her happiest. her casket would be open so everybody would see how appeased she appeared to be... how she would truly be. Death seemed more and more appealing after all, and the woman knew that she would know rest only when she would be dead. The woman imagined how it would be when those who attended her funerals would speak of her. She knew what they would say about her, after all, she was a complicated woman.She wasn't a happy lass. Or maybe she used to be but forgot how to be happy. Her heart was broken, to the point that she couldn't help but cry every morning.
Her tears would never heal her. They would never make her pain go away so she did her best to prevent herself from crying or ignore her tears and pretend they weren't there. She did her best to go on with her life, plaster fake smiles on her lips and walk as if she owned the World while in fact, it was breaking down at her feet. There was nothing left inside or maybe too much was there. She did push those feelings deep down, avoiding to feel every single one of them, especially the happy ones. Because what could possibly happen if not being disappointed.They would say she was a piece of work and was definitely too much work for them to handle. They didn't understand her, the peculiar ways of her mind. They didn't even want to.
They would say it was a relief that she died because at least now they could focus on something else. They wouldn't need to spend too much time in her gloomy and depressing company. They wouldn't need to comfort her and cater to her needs anymore. And yet she didn't even tell them what she wanted. She didn't even tell them how much she needed them and how terrible life was for her. So they thought she simply was making it hard for them on purpose. They couldn't possibly know how deeply hurt she truly was. How much of a nightmare her existence felt like. They couldn't know. They wouldn't know.
Her death would be a relief and she expected her eulogy to be the reflection of that. People lining up to express their joy to have gotten rid of her. People lining up to paint a portrait of her she already was aware of. She was a monster and Death took her away. Maybe that would be the last good action she could give. Making herself disappear...
Ah! If only.
Her tears would never heal her. They would never make her pain go away so she did her best to prevent herself from crying or ignore her tears and pretend they weren't there. She did her best to go on with her life, plaster fake smiles on her lips and walk as if she owned the World while in fact, it was breaking down at her feet. There was nothing left inside or maybe too much was there. She did push those feelings deep down, avoiding to feel every single one of them, especially the happy ones. Because what could possibly happen if not being disappointed.They would say she was a piece of work and was definitely too much work for them to handle. They didn't understand her, the peculiar ways of her mind. They didn't even want to.
They would say it was a relief that she died because at least now they could focus on something else. They wouldn't need to spend too much time in her gloomy and depressing company. They wouldn't need to comfort her and cater to her needs anymore. And yet she didn't even tell them what she wanted. She didn't even tell them how much she needed them and how terrible life was for her. So they thought she simply was making it hard for them on purpose. They couldn't possibly know how deeply hurt she truly was. How much of a nightmare her existence felt like. They couldn't know. They wouldn't know.
Her death would be a relief and she expected her eulogy to be the reflection of that. People lining up to express their joy to have gotten rid of her. People lining up to paint a portrait of her she already was aware of. She was a monster and Death took her away. Maybe that would be the last good action she could give. Making herself disappear...
Ah! If only.
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