The Red Rain of Tears

Love that breaks a heart can sometimes do more than just leave a scar.

As I sat in the open windowsill of my quiet apartment, I sat there, motionless as if my body were frozen. The rain pattered against the tiles of complex making rough, yet loud sounds as if trying to form an unorganized melody. I continued to sit there, my gaze watching as the raindrops raced down the window, almost as if they were each in a race to see who could reach the bottom first. My life was no longer as joyful as a sunny day or as renewing as a rainy one. I had grown tired lately of smiling and bothering with my family or my friends. Luckily for me I lived alone near my college campus. I went to school, worked, then came home to a house full of empty thoughts and painful memories. I no longer ate much and I had lost a lot of weight. I had grown tired of love. The golden four letter word that held so many promises dear to my heart. A heart the broke each time his venomous words escaped his lips. I was happy then. A boyfriend who loved me, one of the guys who said he gave me his heart, who made me feel worth a million dollars. Instead, he would say hurtful things when he felt like it or spouted nonsense of how worthless I was. It eventually had torn me down that I had to seek therapy. I thought it would help, but the pain stuck in my heart. I had been with this man I loved for years and yet, it ended up shattering who I was. 

Lightning struck off brightly in the distance as my body moved, changing into another uncomfortable position as I continued to drift off.  Love is not as I thought it was growing up. You dreamed and were taught from movies how love meant everything, how it could change the world, and that as long as you cared and loved someone that that was all that truly mattered. When you get older though, you realize love is hard, painful, and most of the time someone lying to you. I started this relationship believing love could conquer all and that as long as I was there, nothing bad could tear it down. I believe my love was the Great Wall of China. So strong and durable. Yet, I was wrong. I learned the hard way from cruel words and only when I had lost all the pieces to who I was. I can't smile anymore, my heart aches when I even hear the word 'love' and my stomach clenches up whenever I hear his name. This life I own now is merely a silhouette dancing back and forth from day to day, class to class, person to person. The real part of me is carried with him, with the man I gave my heart to and had done anything for, something I cannot get back.

As I thought more of my pain, I could feel my cheeks become wet, my gaze off in the distance regaining to the current present as I could feel the tears pouring down my eyes. It hurt whenever I thought about him, whenever I thought of myself. He was gone and off with another woman. One who hardly laughed, who hardly smiled, and only battered him with hateful words. He seemed at peace though and I guess that was all that mattered. I stood up, uncrossing my legs and my gaze finally escaping the entrancing drops of water dancing on the windows and the bright flashes of lightning. I continued to cry, my sobs because louder and my chest aching, my hands shaking in pain and sadness. What do you do when you have no feelings left? What are you supposed to do when pain fills your lungs and any feelings of love you had are held in the heart you gave to someone who abandoned you? 

I pondered these questions to myself, curling up in a ball on the floor of my bedroom, my eyes no longer visible through the pouring tears that covered my vision. I continued to cry, my chest aching more and more and my racing, feeling as if it were literally breaking apart. I could feel it shattering more, pieces falling into my stomach as I clutched my stomach. I couldn't handle this pain anymore. The pain felt to great. It hurt as though I had my chest cut open and my heart ripped out, crushed in strong hands in front of me. 

And then it had stopped. My crying stopped and my mind was clear. I stood up, sobbing the last few tears I had left and walking over to my cozy dining room. It was lined with a two place setting of silverware, steak knives, and plates, preparations I had made for when he would visit. Now they lay there, dusty and unused for months. I no longer felt the need to use them. I left them there as a reminder of what no longer meant anything. I stared down at the silverware and plates, returning my gaze as I reached down.

The next thing I felt as I closed my eyes, I was leaning against the wall of the dining room, warm covering my lower stomach. I lightly peeked down, feeling the liquid staining my hands. The gritty texture of the liquid almost felt like faux makeup. Halloween special effects makeup. I could feel myself getting tired, the now stained knife lying next to me as my hand fell to my sides. I looked over, out the window of the dining room as the rain fell harder once more. I stared at it in wonder, realizing how peaceful it sounded pattering against the glass. It sounded much softer on the window, almost as if humming me a song. I closed my eyes as I listened, pain hitting my chest on last time as I took in an easy breath. It felt suddenly like a heavy feeling had been lifted from me however.

A last tear fell from the corner of my right eye as I fell into an unwakable sleep. 

Author's Note

I hope you can understand any terrible grammar. Felt like writing something different and less positive as my medic story. It's actually a bit hard to type with a burned finger. Haha. I hope you'll enjoy and would gladly give feedback! Thank you!

I wrote this a few months ago and found it after I thought I lost it. I had to correct a lot of stuff in it and finish off the last paragraph...so I guess it hadn't been finished til now.

Reviews

[Scott Mou]

Wow, just wow. The description was excellent and the atmoshere was great. Also, that last twist at the end was great. A wonderful short story

[Jax Alessa]

Thank you very much. A lot of my stories grow because of my feelings, not necessarily being the whole story is how I felt. This story was written after I felt betrayed. Emotions help me write.