One Stone at a Time

The red from the napkins stared her in the eyes as she diligently yet mindlessly rolled silverware. If he was half as special as she thought he was, then she had surely lost something great. When her alarm sounded in the morning, she merely laid there accepting the diatribe. She lost the will to move. She wanted to fall into the deep abyss of her pillows and never be found. She wanted to get so lost in her feelings that she might eventually become numb again for this pain was too much for her feeble heart to bear. Every ounce of her being ached. Her soul was screaming in agony yet few could hear her. Her eyes had lost the light that kept them alive. Her words were half hearted and whispered. Her smile was no where to be found. The world around her grew silent as she lost herself in the world of her broken spirit. She had never felt this kind of pain before. She felt as though she had lost part of herself. It was as if her legs had been removed yet she could still feel their pain as present as ever. She looked at the wreckage that had become her once organized life and fell apart. The ivory tower had crumbled beneath her and she stood amongst the rubble dumbfounded. To rebuild such a monument was impracticable and to forget it impossible. But how does one leave such a space empty? How does one start over from such a disaster? One stone at time, she told herself. You start one stone at a time until eventually you could start to rebuild. She reached down, with a slow and steady hand, and picked up a stone. She studied it, turned it over in her hand, closed her fist around it and felt its power. And so she began to clear the rubble, slowly but surely, one stone at a time.