My Day as a Wallflower.

I sat in her company. Quietly acknowledging her presence, I sorted her out; as I had guessed to be the only one curious and amazed at the beauty of a seemingly sad woman.

And it wasn’t the fact that she wasn’t smiling that gave her sadness away. Her eyes, tired and absent as she stared into the open settings beside her. Perhaps she hadn’t a hope or dream in the world. Our ideals carry us, and the hopeless are just that, hopeless.

Then I realized, I was never going to know what pained this woman, this stranger. And this created an ache in me, almost hollowed.

Strangely, I felt a certain connection to her. One that I could never explain. I too was crippled in my sadness. And I too carried a heavy heart.


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