22 // Staggered Hearts

It was a beautiful morning. Birds were singing, and trees were swaying along with the wind. Heck, even the ants were dancing together in long columns as if preparing for the festive season. Nature was more than happy to welcome summer after a long winter season. However, one specific human being was not joyful. 

It was one sombre morning. Tons and tons of used tissues were splattered all over the floor. There were clothes and blankets on the floor, empty bottles of ice-wine on the bed and on the floor. The small bedroom was literally a pigsty. The broken-hearted blonde was curled up into a little ball in her pink pyjamas. Her messy hair was tied into a messy bun and her nose and eyes were red from crying, and she had big bags under her eyes. 

She never imagined that one day she would cry or drink herself to sleep because of a man. She never imagined that someday she would be handed her broken heart on a silver platter, and yet here she was, lying on this bed