She sat empty,
She sat longing,
For one to hold her heart,
For one to see her pain,
For one to walk with her,
Through it all.
I’ve never finished that poem, but it struck me as I was re-reading it. I also have the start of a story written underneath.
She looked around the room, blankly gazing at the sterile white walls, white bed and white floor. She was in there until they could figure out a way to help her live normal life “normally”. Within herself she wondered what normal was, for she felt she had never experienced it. Since her childhood she remembered the deep pangs of loneliness that used to assualt her thoughts and feelings. Often, when going to sleep at night she used to feel incredibly isolated and alone. Yet those childish fears never left her. Throughout high school, rejection seemed to follow her. It was not the flat-out, right-away rejection which seemed to haunt her, but rather the more heart wrenching type which comes only after a friendship has developed. Only after she was known was she rejected.
The starting of that story is indeed bleak, but it seems to characterize my fictional writing. I love to start in the “depths of despair” (to quote Anne of Green Gables) only to bring my character to peace and to joy!