"Break my heart for what breaks yours," I told her. It was a line I found scribbled on one of her doodles. She looked at me like I had read her mind. She hadn't been in her usual sarcastic yet charming mood lately. I always found her becoming more and more distant- staring off into space, disengaging in conversations. I didn't think much of it until this moment.
"You shouldn't joke about broken hearts, one day it could be yours,"
She said this without looking back at me. She gazed out the window next to us, looking at the streets below. We sat on opposite sides of her bed while facing each other. I always wonder what she saw that day that I didn't. Was it just pigeons? Was it the queen? I like to think it was her reflection she was staring at. That was the only mesmerizing thing I encountered that day.
"Who said I was?" She looked over to me once more. "Joking, I mean,"
This time it was different. Her eyes were dull and her mouth wasn't curved slightly upwards like it was normally. I wanted her to know I could see it, but I was afraid she wouldn't see the same. She peered out the window again. Her face was blank. After that moment I never truly saw her again. She was mentally vacant.
I never understood how a person could deteriorate so quickly. One day she was overflowing with life and the next she had run dry. It's like she died but something still kept her physically going.
I didn't know what to say at this point; she didn't either. She just frowned and watched as it started to sprinkle rain on the people passing by below.
