This is from a guy's perspective because it a story about someone and the guilt of not expressing your feelings before it is too late.
Leaving my class early o see her. They won’t miss me. Prancing towards where she waits, I can still hear the class saying their fake goodbyes. They wont miss me they only try to delay the instructor's lesson. She would wait in only one place, a small, dark corner where the lights rays barely reach out to, only feet away from flooding the gloom. As her corner slides into view I walk briskly along the hall's wall. I see her lying on the hard tile, facing in my direction, they way in which I've always come. I'm not concerned about the fact that she does not stir, she often seems tired. A small distance away I see her eyes open, unblinking. She is staring at me, around me, through me, I wonder if she is feeling empty today. Her eyes answer my question, for there is no glinting blue. As I step closer her expression is unchanging. What is that look? Serenity? Despair? I chose her emotion. Anyone would think she is dead, I only see it as the beginning of another depression. But as I draw closer, I feel a chill clawing up my spine. As my eyes get used to the contrast in light, I see there are two types of dark in that corner. The sort of dark which consumes her and that which covers her, spreading ever so slowly along the folds in her grey sweater. Is this a trick...No...The life is gone, I can feel death flowing slowly into my pores, the stench is unbelievable, not a stink, but a feeling of loss for time and in the back of my mind a hollow space, as if the room had never seen a human face in years, a feeling not easily forgotten. Collapsing next to her limp body I pull her head away from the dark and gently lift her fragile shoulders and motionless chest, easing her body into my arms. I see the darkness for what it is, but not what caused it, not a mark, not a wound, nothing. Hidden under the layers of clothing; they take the form of loneliness and despair. The flowing has stopped by now, all that is left is the seeping and spreading. I stare at her face; her emotion appears in my horror stricken eyes. Pity. Pity for those who must face the rest of their lives in this painful world. I suddenly realize she is crying...no that can’t be right, they are my own. My tears for a girl who's name I do not know; who's habit I never tried to stop, let alone confront; the girl who watched me everyday with solemn eyes, hoping I would take a minute out of my day to say something to her, even a "hello", as no one else ever did. Today was different, she didn’t stop waiting for me; she stopped living. Lonely as ever she'll never know, she was held in the arms of her fixation. We were never introduced, what a cruel world this is, what monstrous deeds we commit.
This isnt about someone dying...well it is,. but its a metaphor about the loneliness and how long lasting it can be, that after a while it consumes you and ....kills your soul, your heart, what you strive for doesnt seem to have any meaning. Without fulfillling your needs and your passions or recognizing another's strive for such, the invisibility can consume us/them and...tkae us. I dont know how to explain it toher wise hopefully you understand.
getting better
