Tears Are Not Enough 소설 & 이야기

SCARLETT Leaning against the shower wall, I feel the tears streaming down my face, hot and relentless. My hand instinctively clamps over my mouth in a feeble attempt to muffle my sobs, but they still spill through unabated. I can’t seem to stop crying, and I don’t know how long I’ve been here. All I know is that I can’t get out until the tears subside, but that doesn’t seem to be happening anytime soon.

And also, I'm not a rock to not feel pain. When he finally closed the door, that was the time I let my tears flow like an endless river. I know that crying isn't good for me, but I'll just let myself for now. I don't know how to alleviate this pain anymore. This is the only way I could think of. It hurts. A lot.

It was then that all her memories of before came tumbling in her head. Her body then slides down to the white-tiled that was floor of the bathroom. Her head resting on the cabinet that the sink was in. she began to cry hot and angry tears. But what is done is done. Plus it was only time before he would have claimed her anyways. But still, she had hoped that they could start an actual relationship beforehand.

" A few tears roll down his face, but he makes no movement to wipe them away or look away from me. My heart feels like there are a thousand needles being inserted to it, every inch of it being stabbed. I'm at a loss of words, so I just stare into his eyes, registering every emotion out in the open for me to see. Anguish, love, heartbreak, and fear. All of them just swim in the tears in his eyes. I don't say anything. Instead, I just cup his face and kiss every inch of it, his tears salty on my tongue, but I don't stop. After an eternity, I finally rest my forehead against his. His tears have stopped, and his eyes are closed. I know for a fact that he isn't fully better, but he's holding on t

at the s for you to your to your to your to your to your to your to your you to your to your to your to your to your to your to your to your to your to your she to your to your to His eyes were as beautiful as those of Mateo, like exactly the same eyes that I sometimes wondered if I was staring at those of Mateo. I refused to let tears slide down my cheeks, not anymore. I can't keep making myself a slave and a weak, helpless girl. I won't do tears again because it makes me feel so weak inside of me. Although sometimes I wish I could better shed those tears, there are days when it feels like my heart has been ripped from my chest due to the pains I have held within it. all thanks to Apple Mus

“How could she be dead? It was just medicine texts. Aithne went through them loads of times and nothing ever happened…” But I wouldn’t answer him anymore. Once upon a time, I would have wiped away his tears. But now, I could no longer touch them. And I didn’t want to, either. His tears had come far too late. Several elders flew over in no time. By then, Parents were crying so hard that they couldn't breathe properly—Mother had even fainted. The head priestess saw the scene and her face twisted with shock and blazing fury. Only Aithne stood to the side, fists clenched, her expression truly terrifying.

I was just a guest star. Oh. One tear finally dropped dramatically. I let it slide slowly. If I wiped it off, I might not be lucky enough to get another one. I needed the tear, just so I could feel the hurt. Because it was almost beginning to seem like I was growing numb by the second.

I didn’t respond because I wasn’t sure that was entirely true. They finished and people began to leave one by one until it was just me standing there in front of the fresh earth, I stared at it. Then finally something cracked in me and my breath left me and before I could stop it a tear slipped down my face the another then more. I didn’t wipe them away or hide it because there was no one left to see. “I’m trying,” I whispered. My voice barely audible. “I really am.” But it didn’t feel like enough. Nothing did.

I immediately rushed to wipe it off but she shook her head. "Contrary to what everyone says, tears are not a sign of weakness. Instead it only means that you feel things deeply. Your life has not been the most perfect the past few years and only the blind would pretend like it didn't hurt him." Her words continued to stretch into my heart, twisting and turning, almost as though I was before a surgeon who was making a new heart.

She pressed a hand to her mouth in an attempt to muffle her sobs, her emotions threatening to consume her. In the quiet solitude of the bathroom, her tears fell like rain. It was as if each tear held the weight of her fears, her regrets, and the overwhelming uncertainty that now hung over her future. She sank to the bathroom floor, her back against the wall, as the reality of her situation crashed down upon her.