Dressed in Black

She was dressed in all black, as if there would be a funeral. Black shoes, black shirt, black pants. All black. Much like her life things seemed to come in darker shades these days. The people she thought were important had betrayed her; she was invisible to them now. A half smile, a fake wave; that’s what she was worth. She could trust no one. Everyone’s eyes were hiding something. Everyone’s words were insincere. In a way, her attire was quite appropriate. There would be a funeral. A funeral for all those she held dear who were no longer with her. They had replaced her with the fake illusions of a life they knew they didn’t want. But it was easier to have this fake life than to have a real one and risk part of themselves to be part of something greater. People didn’t want great things anymore. People wanted what was easy. But easy was fake and unrewarding; just like they were. Everyone was fake. She was alone in her own reality and suddenly realized why no one took the leap. It was lonely on the other side of things. Reality was a lonely place. So she sits in her reality looking attentively at all the faces once familiar to her, waiting, so patiently waiting, for the day someone would join her. But some how she knew that day would never come. They loved their fake lives, they were blind to their own true feelings and they always would be. She would spend eternity alone in her own reality; but at least it was honest here.