The thing which pained me the most was her honest reflection of her incapability to love. How she envied the ones who could feel, be it heartache or heartbeat. Her words stuck with me. Here I was in the middle of my heartbreak, feeling each stab, and there she was, feeling nothing, not even a pinch. I wondered what was worse. We stood separately, each representing a half of better to have loved and lost than to never having loved at all.
When put in context, my heartache became pitiful and petty. I had loved and I had lost. She had never loved yet she had lost it all. I wanted to try to write down some words of comfort for her but I don’t know if I can. I’m convinced that she will learn how to love one day. And I hope the universe compensates her by never having her lose anyone ever again.