Anticipation

She was made of stone. She was made of steel. Nothing could touch her, nothing could break her and nothing could move her. She only felt a lingering sense of passive, frigid coldness that refused to leave her mind and body. The laughter didn’t touch her eyes, but her eyes always had this sort of glimmer in them that people didn’t understand. The winds of time blew and storms came and went, but she didn’t seem to stir an inch. She created a strange aura of stillness and an eerily peaceful calm around her that scared people. People were always intimidated by her presence and they could never explain what it was about her that disturbed them in some way. It was almost like she was silently questioning their meaning of existence and their happiness. People never got through to her because she drew a line whenever somebody got too close for her comfort. This coldness that she lived in was her comfort. People wondered if it was only darkness inside of her. They didn’t understand that it was never dark inside. There was always a bright, shimmering light inside of her that never dimmed. That light never stopped burning because she never stopped hoping that someday, her life would change. She was impossibly driven, driven to achieve goals and aspirations that she never shared with a soul. For her, that was life. Or, was it?

She never lost her belief in humanity though, however cold her exterior was. She never stopped hoping that she would start feeling again and that someday the warmth that was so cruelly stolen from her would slowly seep back into her system. She waited eagerly in anticipation for that day when she would finally crack a genuine and heartfelt smile. She would feel again, because if you can hope, you can feel and you can love.