He left her.
She woke up on a Friday morning and reached out for her phone. There was no text or missed call from him. It had been three days since they talked. She looked at her phone, dialed his number and slowly closed her eyes when she was directed to his voicemail.
She went on for two months, going to work, catching up with friends and taking each day as best as she could.
It must have been the casual way in which she met a mutual friend. He was swirling a drink in the glass in his hand. He said “yeah, he is still single, you know…I thought he’d settle down by now, but he just said that he started dating this girl but had to step back because she lacked ambition.”
She walked away from that gathering and gulped in each breath as she walked towards home.
Those who saw her that weekend said that she kept to herself. They could not get a word out of her, but even then, the sun set on a soul that was hurting and what’s sad is that he’ll never know how much she bore the burden of judgement.
They all say “she was kind and caring,” like those words could strip down the weight of the world that she bore.
He left her.
As I sit here, I wonder, was it that ‘he left her’ or that life had pushed her to the edge of a cliff, and a few encouraging words or just one kind act could have been the hand she held on?