"How can you just leave me standing alone in a world that's so cold?"
The tears streamed down her face.
There goes one for anger. The only one she wants to shed for that emotion. It’s too simple a description, too easy a scapegoat to hide the source of her tears.
There’s the rush of disappointment. The feeling she chastises herself for first. What would be disappointment without expectation. The disappointment she mulls over, trying to determine if her expectations were warranted, if they were promised, or if they were a child’s imagination.
There’s a blush of embarrassment rolling down the left cheek, burning hot like fire.
A waterfall of frustration. A beautiful cascade of sheer, tearing out hair madness for the things just beyond her understanding. The things she covets greedily, her endless hopeless pursuit.
There goes one for anger. The face in her mirror has red eyes and a sniffling nose and a trembling mouth. An idiot’s eyes, a whiner’s nose, and a weakling’s mouth.
