Remain fastened on the Particular Emotion

It's late. She muttered into her sweater that she clenched tightly in her fists right against her mouth and nose. The smell was comforting - a warm, worn aroma of clean wool and detergent... the one article of clothing that she could cry unashamedly into yet still have it waft off scents of delicious homeliness.

The week had been appallingly horrid and it was hardly even Wednesday... she had already gone through bits of torn off heart, bits of reassembled heart, bits of failed homework that she had thought a definite 'A' upon and bits of embarrassment as she answered questions wrong while venturing a guess that was required of the individuals sitting with her.

How frustrating was the mundane in her life? Everything from school to boys to career to films- drama to odd stomach-flutterings that she thought had left long ago. There were still parts of human in her, though this week... no, this week was turning out to be the worst in months.

Yet as she sat with one of them, she peered into his eyes trying to read what was occurring - he mentioned the unexplainable in her attempt to understand precisely what was going on.

I won't say anything to give you hope

but I wont say anything to take it away.

What was that supposed to mean? Too much effort put into places that didn't deserve them or again, having bits of her taken out meticulously was too much of a struggle. So what should be done instead?

Walls can no longer be utilized to back out of reality. 

The problem with reading people is that you know exactly what they're thinking. They ask you how you know, you explain it to them and then they are able to read others also.

This proves problematic as they will try to read you: but fortunately she was good at hiding mostly everything that was supposed to be kept internal. Walls. But they cannot just be an excuse to not share what was going on.

And she did just that. She trusted him. He trusts her. 

Yet why the relentless suggestion when the opinions were set in stone?

She took a deep inhale of her sweater. No more tears. No, that was over and done with. Tomorrow was a new day. And thursday a new one after that. 

Aim for a week friday, love. 10 more days. You can pull through.