“ don’t worry about me, Im not crying. ” minha answered the female infront of her. she kept her head looking down to the grey asfalt below. the weather wasn’t exactly bright, it was a little cloudy too. her mood often depended on how the weather would be, but, not today. she felt hurt. she couldn’t explain why just yet.

crying was something she could relate to. she was a huge crier. something good happens, she’ll cry. she misses someone, she’ll cry. she feels hurt, she’ll cry. it’s a never ending list of reasons why the waterworks should open their flood gates. even if she was open about it, never ran off or tried to hide the fact, it was understandable why someone else would. we’ve all ended up in a situation similar when it was much easier to escape the truth than accept the fatal fate. that something was wrong, ruining our perfectly alight manufactured world we feed in the essence of our minds.

which is why, she wasn’t pushy. but she wasn’t going to leave either. she can remember those times she pleaded in her mind someone would stay despite her works of reassurance. and if that was the case for now, she wanted to be there. at least until she was told otherwise and granted a pass to leave. but for now, she was stable about it.