Lies. It all stemmed from lies. This wasn't a quick realization. These were timeless minutes that spewed up one final thought: the man in the suit didn't love the girl in the blue dress.
She clenched her fist. Her uneven, patchy black nails had grown over the course of two days, now long enough to leave a clear outline on her pale white skin. It hurt.
It hadn't been long. It hadn't been a year or two months. It hadn't been long but the new truth, her truth, was all it took to send her over the edge.
She smacked her lips. Her cheap $1 lipstick had flaked off and left a cherry red glimmer across her lower lip. It had taken her three hours to find this exact CD. Three hours plus 30 minutes of liquid courage in the form of yet another cheap discarded alcohol her family had left and she finally had all the elements together.
She hated this CD. She hated what it stood for. She couldn't find the pictures or the ticket stub so this would have to do.
"I hate what you did, to me."
Her clenched fists were now losing color. All her anger, all her regrets, all her love, all her forgiveness, and self-hatred was directed toward this CD.
"You took something from me and you left me. You ran away!"
She raised her right fist. Her left was still recovering from slamming it against her car door. Her right, her weak right fist would take the blow.
She closed her eyes. Tears had ruined whatever makeup remained from the long night. She was ready. All her pain would be gone the moment this CD was broken. It would end. She would move on. She wouldn't need to wait on the phone or stop herself from calling a missed number. It would be done.
With eyes closed, she struck the CD.
The room was filled with a hallowed cry. She opens her eyes. There was no release. Her knuckles were bleeding. She quickly wrapped her fist with the cloth draping her nightstand. She knew what had happened.
"Fuck you."
She had missed the CD entirely. A small bump now existed above her pillow.
"Fuck you for not caring anymore. Fuck me for still wanting you."
The wall. She'll try again next week. Same CD. Same feeling. Same pain. New tears.
"I love you."
She grabbed the CD and tossed it inside her drawer, right above the letters and photographs. She removed the green cloth and exposed her new bruises. She stared at the blood. It was hers. It will always be hers.
And her hope remains even when the blood dries.
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