she walked around the park picking up the pieces
of her broken heart. Slowly she stopped, picked up,
and tried to put the pieces back together. Sometimes
the pieces no longer fit; she needed to mend those parts
in different ways.
When things got really tiring, she would sit on the grass,
feeling the tingle of the greenery around her. The flowers
seemed to be blooming in an explosion of color that she couldnt
possible comprehend. She started noticing the birds, who seem
to be calling out to her. she thought they probably werent calling
out to her.
One day someone else was in the same park, picking up pieces
of something that seemed broken. It seemed strange, looked alot like
hers. He saw her too and through the days seeing each other they
stopped and said hi. Sometimes they waved. Sometimes they smiled,
shy smiles. One day they stopped under the same tree to rest and stare at
the birds. They spoke to each other, they had never heard each other say
anything other than the usual hello.
Curiosity made her ask what he was picking up, he told her the story of loss,
a story she knew all too well. He asked her why she was in this park too... she
was different, she didnt lose it. But she had, and he was the first person she told
her sad story too. It rained that day. They had to stay under the tree. When the sun
came out, he asked her if she needed help gathering her strange fragments. It didnt
take her long to say yes.