Dating : Walking Past A Bridge Over Still But Troubled Waters

She had been walking for some time. She wasn’t exactly lost, just farther from home than she usually was.

The streets were deserted, though she did not know if they’d been that way for the past few weeks. This was the first time she stepped outside, before the world suddenly became as it is now — frightful, isolated, restless, but most of all, uncertain.

She passed by a vaguely familiar bridge and decided to sit by the waters, which seemed still, just like her, yet unwilling to reveal a troubled spirit underneath.

Anxiety rose again, threatening to break through the calm surface she projected on the outside. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine,” she kept muttering under her breath.

In some ways she was, but the more she delved into her quiet yet disturbed mind, the more she became unconvinced that she was.

She turned her eyes to the bridge high above her, feeling small and insignificant in that very moment. The buildings around the bridge gave no indication of life inside, not at all different from her state of mind.

But the waters were troubled, the doubt has been cast aside. She held in the tears, even if every molecule and droplet possessed a raging storm, waiting to be unleashed, waiting to paint a vision that made her greatly afraid.

She would never sail on by and her time would never come, the ominous signs ahead of her made sure of that — the future would never allow her to shine.

Nothing could comfort her, no not even for a moment. Nothing could ease her troubled mind.

She stared ahead, wondering why all was peaceful yet still full of turmoil that she could not reconcile with every good thing she aspired to be — the identifiable and the unindentifiable, the past and the present, the understood and the misunderstood.

She could feel everything at once: every haunting memory that never faded quietly in the background, every foolish and naïve wish that was never granted, every feeling she trapped in the marrow of her bones, every ounce of fear that she failed to silence, every irregular heartbeat that she survived.

The evening had fallen, but she stood still. The waters reflected nothing back at her, for she was nothingness.