She was looking at me with tears in her eyes. I asked her why it hurts and she told me everything. I listened. I had to.
When she was five, she woke up crying knowing that her aunt whom she grew up with, will fly abroad to work. Years passed by and she was waiting for her to come back. She never did. There were no calls, no messages—none at all. At that very young age, she felt that she was not worth loving. She was afraid of loving another person, knowing that person would leave.
Years passed by, our eyes met again. She looked at me while combing her hair. She never changed. She was 10 and her eyes looked the same as when she was five—her eyes never lied. She was still sad. She never believed in herself. She did good at school. She had to. That's what would make her parents happy.
All her life she was trying so hard to make everybody happy, yet she was wondering how to be because she never felt that genuine happiness in her heart.
She was 20 when our eyes met again. She was standing in front of me in a red dress. It was hanging prefectly just above her knees. She smiled, I smiled in return. She was charming. She gained friends. She met someone, a boy who loved her. She felt that she never had to please him. That was what she was longing for back then—to love and be loved in return.
But months passed by and she was hurt. The boy she loved left her for someone else. She felt the same pain again. The feeling of always being left alone tore her heart. She realized that people really do come and go. She wasn't prepared, she never will be. She was exhausted from life.
That night, she was in her room. She shouted for help but no one answered. All she heard was her voice that echoed in the room. She stood near me and our eyes met again. Her eyes sparkled from the reflection of the light. She frowned and I frowned in return. I tried to wipe her tears but my hands touched the glass. No one was there, I was looking at a mirror.