Note: I have a thing for mythology, so that’s where the pics come from. In this case Apollo and Daphne. There is obviously and interesting myth attached, but to sum this one up, Apollo loves Daphne, so much so, that he chases her around until she asks her dad for help, yelling “Open the earth to enclose me, or change my form…” In the end, she turns into a laurel tree….talk about chasing what doesn’t want to be caught.
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She was tired of being alone. It took her awhile to realize that she was not the type of person that could live alone and be happy. She needed human interaction; she needed people around, human contact. The problem lay in finding someone she was willing to share her life with.
It was past time she forget about him. She had to remind herself he was not for her, would never be for her. She wanted to be seen for the person she was, and not simply for the warm body she presented, but in the end, she was a fool like all the rest, and had no one to blame but herself. It was her fault for allowing him to get under her skin. Her fault for believing the lies he told, her fault for hoping that he was different, her fault for not being able to protect herself from men like him. He made her realize that she was weak, and when it came to him, there was not a thing she would not have done, and still to him she was less than nothing, just a warm body to be carelessly discarded.
When he callously left, she walked around for days seeing nothing, simply going through the motions of life. When he left, he took with him all the things that made her human; all the things that made her feel alive until all that was left were remnants of a heart that used to beat, a heart that used to love, a heart that used to feel.
It took a while for her realize that she had done herself wrong, when he shattered her heart she gathered up the pieces and hid them from those that would do her harm. And now, she could not remember where they were, she didn’t know how to get them back. She was tired of not feeling, she was tired of being afraid, she was tired of being another broken female. It was past time she remember that she was no one’s puppet; that no man could pull her strings.
If only she could remember where she hid those broken pieces.
