His Breaking Heart

There in the middle of the chaotic silence, he sat. Bit by bit, his heart’s slowly breaking. Hope is seeping through the cracks of his physical being and evaporating into nothing. Cold sweat dripping down his neck, landing on the collar of his shirt.

‘Words.’ He thought, ‘How can words hurt him so much?’

He got up and walk out of the room with his head down – avoiding eye contact with each person he passed by. He left behind lingering laughter, enticing to the ears but breaks his heart further.

He was alone. Nobody was there for him. He hated himself.
He blamed his whole being for the failures in his life. He refuses to think that there is still hope. He refuses to think that there is still a solution.

‘No.’, he said to himself as he opens his car door, ‘I can’t think about that right now.’
He placed both hands on the wheel. ‘Breathe.’ He thought, ‘Just Breathe.’ He slowly placed his key in the ignition.

He failed to insert it the first time. His body was shaking and his fingers were clammy. He felt cold despite the hot weather.

‘Again.’ He thought. For the second time, he inserted the key. He succeeded and gave out a long sigh. He placed both hands on the wheel again and rested his forehead in between his hands.

He felt lost. Confused. Alone. Hopeless. Insecure.
He tried so hard to keep the tears from falling.
He tried so hard to keep it all bottled up inside.
He tried so hard to succeed.
He was so close to the end…

The finish line was just there within arms reach…
He took out his phone from his pocket.

He dialed that familiar number.
A number he had known for so long.
A number he had called and answered so many times.

Ringing…

‘Pick up’ he thought.

Ringing…

“Please…” he whispered.

Ringing…

“I need you right now..”

“The number you have dialed is busy at th—”

He was crying now. Hot tears streaming down his cheeks. Eyes stinging, he typed a message. Sent it.

He waited for a minute.

Another minute.

And another minute.

He sent a different message to the same person.

He waited for a reply.
But none came.

He was slowly giving up. He hated himself. He hated his life. He wanted to run away. He wanted to throw it all away.
He dialed that familiar number for the last time.

Ringing…

The sound was endless.

Ringing…

He was frustrated. Where were they when he needed them the most?

He turned on the ignition and drove home.
All the while his heart’s under the clutch — stepped on and broken.

Home. He needed to get there as fast as he could.
He needed the safety of his room.
He needed the familiarity of his own comfort zone.
He needed to know if …

*phone rings in the background

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