I wiped my tears roughly and held my head in my hands. It felt heavy. Like hammers were slammed on its walls.
I turned around and gasped. The same man was still standing behind me. I was about to flip off at him but stammered. His gaze was on me. But it wasn't the gaze that made you feel uncomfortable. It was the innocent yet concerned gaze. I'd been crying for God knows how long and he was still on the same spot. Didn't he have work to do? I let out an unsteady breath and acted like I hadn't just been in the middle of a mental breakdown. I was used to the poker face all the time. Hiding what I felt wasn't hard anymore. Except it was, saying I was just in the midst of a breakdown right now. I stared back and almost groaned. Of course, he had to be hot and he wasn't exactly a man; he was a guy. A really out-of-this-world unbelievably gorgeous guy.
His jawline could probably cut through glass. His skin was fair and was splashed with a filter-worthy blush on his cheeks. His lips were plump and heart-shaped and sloped a bit downwards on both sides making him look all gloomy. His eyes were a striking hazel with gold flecks that looked like dancing fires. His black shirt clung to his impressive obviously worked-out masculine structure complimenting all that hard muscle.
All my insecurity and self-consciousness kicked in. I probably looked like what I was. A starved eighteen-year-old that was about to be homeless. A contrast of sunken cheeks, swollen amber eyes, and hair that looked like a bird's nest. My hair wasn't actually dark brown and dull, it was light brown and contrasted my eyes but the lack of shampoo had made it limp and a darker shade of brown. My eyebags probably hung low. I hastily tucked strands of hair and ran a hand over my head.
He was still staring at me. He looked at his phone and looked back up at me. He scrunched his face while glancing at his phone again. I almost smiled at how adorable he looked while making that face. His thick black eyebrows scrunched together in concentration with pouted lips. A person with a face that serious making that expression made it silly. He looked up and noticed my strained face.
Smiling wasn't something I was used to and it didn't come to me naturally like it did to people. People who thought life was a bed of roses and had faced nothing to think otherwise. Their smiles came from within. It was internal happiness that lighted up their face and made their smile easy to wear. My smiles were strained. They didn't come from within. Since childhood. I never thought there was something to be that happy about. Or grateful for.
The world is a shithole, life is a way of torture, feelings to get hurt, thoughts to kill, shitty parents, and an appearance that has to be concealed. Love that is always selfish and never unconditional. Love that only exists in the movies or that's what I think because I've never seen or experienced it myself. My parents never had a relationship. I never had the time or energy for relationships. Not that many guys approached me either but I could never trust any enough to build a bond with them. Two to three dates at most. I wasn't available enough, not for myself not for anyone else.
Feeling unloved is the most draining thing in the world. Nothing you do is worthwhile, not even living. The void of feeling worthless just sucks everything else in. It makes you blank and emotionless.