The definition of a low blow

Okay so here is a little bit of backstory, There once was a girl who was not quite a woman.
This girl did not understand the boundaries between reality and fiction. She read about heartache so often that she had become a living sad story. The melancholy in which she had become accustomed to ultimately lead to a low point in her life that she had no idea how to make better.

The silence grew so vastly that it carved it's way into her heart leaving crevasses of wanting in its wake, it poisoned her thoughts as though it was a sickness and slowly began killing her.
It's monstrous claws sank into the deepest parts of her brain, twisting and turning until all that was left were the bad memories Tearing at the weakest pieces of her until it was sure that she would break. She did break. She fell. She hit rock bottom. Her sentences became nothing more than words and soon her words became nothing more than thoughts. She became trapped inside the loneliness of her own mind, a jail in which she was both the prisoner and the warden. She let her sanity slip away from her as she couldn't come to terms with the reality of the situation.
She had let someone hurt and use her, she had cared too much despite everything and that is what ultimately lead to her ruin.
She thought too much, she said so much and she wanted everything. She wanted words, conversation, anything that meant that she could still be herself with him. She wanted him. She gave her heart away and all that she got in return was "the silent treatment."


Moral of the story:
The absence of words can hurt just as badly as the presence of them.

Author's Note

This was just something I wrote really quickly.