At the edge of the riverbank, a young woman sits. She is wearing a long white dress, with a pretty, flowing skirt, and loose, long sleeves. Her feet dangle just barely in the river, and her long, loose black hair falls around her shoulders and down her back. From a distance, she seems at peace. Closer, though, her shoulders shake and her cheeks are wet, gray eyes shut tight against a flow of tears.
I haven't seen him in so long... No letters, no visits, no words...
She told people, had been telling people for the passing weeks, that he was busy, he was occupied... he would come see her soon.
But in her heart, she knew the truth.
He was gone. She didn't know why. She didn't understand anything, except for the hurt. It did hurt so much. It felt like someone had taken her heart away and told her she must live without it. All she could feel was a gaping emptiness, a horrid clenching, where her heart should have been.
She scrunched up her eyes, trying to hold back the next flood of tears, but they found their way down her cheeks anyway dripped onto her lap, one by one.
Alone, this young lady felt so very alone.
Alone
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