When dawn broke on that sleepless night, she knew not what to do first. She was caught up in a whirlwind of emo sea change and trying to sort through the facts as if it was laundry day in her head. But the clear hard truths were muddled with the rest of it.
That morning in the aftermath was one of pacing and the breaking down of illusions that crashed into a very visceral reality and the convulsive influx of tears. She found herself in the shower trying to wash it all right out of her hair, still shell shocked about the big 'if' that held no certain terms. Not necessarily all 'when' and 'whenever' - but there was an 'if,' and she was quite hung up on that - wondering, frankly 'where did that come from? and why does that one hurt so much? and what am I not seeing?'