"I wish I was as numb as everyone thinks I am." I thought to herself, "The girl who doesn't feel anymore; The girl who doesn't care. The selfish, self-interested girl who couldn't care any less about what anyone has to say. "

MY eyes shifted to the side again and became glazed with a glassy layer of tears. As I blinked, they dripped from my eyelids and slid down my cheeks. I bit my lip tightly in attempt to hide any sound that wanted to escape, my lower lip quivered as words slowly made their way out. . .

"But I know that I am not, and I never will be that girl," I confess.

My heart is broken. It's in pieces, every piece has a jagged end. These edges poke at me from the inside every time I move, even every time I breath. I was forever tormented by a past that could not be undone, fine on the outside, hurt in the inside.

My hair is straightened out for the first time since the break up, my eyelashes curled, and my outfit cascade. I have my head held high, and my mouth in a coy smile that radiated my innocent soul.

There were days I would awake and my memories weighed heavy. The morning radio came to me through a haze and the smiles of others were no more real than the pixelated icons on my phone. It was temporary of course, but in that permanent way; however high I rose and how long I stayed away this was the base-line I would always return to.

Inside, I was bleeding. How am I even capable of surviving? Sometimes the pain isn't even metaphorical. It is real. Like someone is clawing at my heart, like I'm having a cardiac arrest, sometimes I just want to curl and throw up.

I couldn't eat anymore, found the sight of food revolting. No one seemed to ask if I was okay when they heard the news, they only assumed I was on some cool new diet. I mean lets be honest, Could the popular and maybe even famous Kay possibly be depressed?