Broken

Not alone yet lonely. Waiting for that spesific ring that never came. Pick up the thing that keeps her busy most of the time. Its broken, not literally but it has lost its meaning without that ring. That specific ring. Waiting constantly in pain. That weird feeling in her tummy. That something is going wrong. So wrong. It is what it is.

There's nothing else she can do but just sit at her bedside and stare. Stare at the window into nothing. Nothing. Not a single thing drew attention to her lonely heart. Stare at the wall with her empty look, stare at the window curtain that have more life than this feeling, stare at the fuzzy little thing that she keeps warm at night.

An hour past through and nothing. Nothing has changed. Not a single sound. Tried her best to understand why he's not there when she needed him the most. Life. Busy. Ofcourse. Karma maybe. Broken yet accepting. It is what it is. Emptiness.