• the Teardrop •

‘I know you hate me’, he screamed at her face, sobbing.

But she smirked with a teardrop rolling across her cheek and said, ‘How do I hate you when I’ve never loved you’.

The words hit him hard, but the teardrop held him still.

He wondered, ‘what does the teardrop hold?’

Was it holding the love that she had once reserved exclusively for him but was now slipping away; or was she telling the truth, in which the teardrop was of without any value.

He couldn’t understand, nor could he have access to the teardrop to understand, and eventually, the teardrop evaporated and never be seen again.

— PurplePen