Stars | completed

45. To Love Too Much

Her memories were tumbling inside her brain like pieces of a puzzle she didn't know how to solve, some just more distinct than the others. There was no timeline. She didn't remember if she loved first and then the world hurt her or did she hurt first and then got saved by love.

All she knew was that she had loved. And she hadn't loved in pieces like most people of her age did. She had loved hard, in an irreversible way, giving all her heart, all of her pieces, the broken ones and the mended, to that one man who had promised to keep her safe until his last breath. She had loved too much. And maybe that was her flaw. The only mistake she had made was probably to love too much, because this- the unbearable pain she was experiencing had to be punishment for it.

Besides that, what she also knew was that she had been hurt. By a lot of people who thought it was okay to think of her as a second option.

She often found herself wondering why. She loved them so much, but she was never the one they chose. It was always somebody else. She couldn't point that somebody else's name yet, but she had the face well on the top of her mind.

As the night became damper and colder, she clung her hands close to her arms, trying to provide herself with the little warmth it could.

To retire and go back to a safer place for spending the night was not an option. At all. She had work to do. She had places to be. She had a love to avenge. And above all, she had chaos to create.

It was easy. For her to be able to create chaos, it would be pretty damn easy. You know what they say: to defeat a monster, you have to first become a monster. To create chaos, you have to be chaotic.

Her thoughts. Her memories. Her emotions. Her appearance. Everything you could think of was a mess. And yet, 'mess' would be too subtle a word to describe what she was at the moment. Chaos, though, was closer.

Ask yourself, what is chaos?

There are too many answers. Too many descriptions. But ask me, and I'd point my finger at that girl who once loved too much, who's emotions were never in order, who felt too much, sometimes even expected too much, the one who's been broken and lied to and maybe even betrayed but that never stopped her from hoping or loving again. A hundred times, she's rebuilt herself from the pieces of her broken old self. That girl is chaos.

But this girl, walking in the middle of the storm like she was the one who created it in the first place? She was way past chaos. She was fire.

Unfortunately, she wasn't the kind of fire from which you seek comfort in her warmth. Not anymore.

She had become the kind of fire that grows recklessly. It would burn you into ashes in front of her own eyes, and she wouldn't care.

Maybe because when she was burning, nobody bothered to care too.

Giving one last glance to the hospital that for some reason meant too much and too little at the same time to her, she walked in the opposite direction from where she had come.

She walked as if she owned the street below and the thunder overhead.

That was the plan- to walk, until blinding headlights of a car were flashing at her.