One month.

It had been one month since the last time she saw him. Heard his voice, see him smiling.

Kissing.

Reclining on the wooden chair and staring absently at the green trees in her backyard. A white fence separating the green lush jungle from her backyard. . .her knees up, both hands around her legs. . hugging.  .she seemed like a part of the scenery too.

Silent.

And watchful.

Like the ancient trees.

The sky was just about darkening. .pink patches of the sky merging into gray one. Birds of all kind chirping , shrieking , hooting and going back to their nests before the dark could fall, taking food for the young ones.

Such beautiful sight and . .she couldn't even feel the half of it.

As if everything had lost their meaning.

The green wasn't green enough.

The birds weren't chirping enough.

The jungle wasn't . . .jungle enough.

The hole in her heart was widening with every passing day as if one day it would swallow her whole like a deadly blood thirsty shark. . pull her under the water. .drown her . And she almost laughed at her thoughts. .she had been naively hopeful. . hopeful that these days would get over . The crying at night , the stuffing her face in the pillow so her mother won't hear her anguish.

How was she suppose to forget him when he stalked her dreams?

How was she suppose to forget him when every night she would see him in her dreams . .blood spilling out of his eyes like tears.

One word on his lips.

"Sarah Sarah Sarah. ."

She would lay awake, too scared to go to sleep. Too scared that the next dream she would see him in much worse state. .

Every night her heart would break down and in the morning she would pick herself back up.

The dark circles under her eyes were enough to give away her state . She had stopped looking in the mirror. .she couldn't find Sarah in the reflection.

All she saw was a girl. .with nothing left to lose.

And really. .

She was sure about one thing.

Nothing in this world would ever mean anything to her.

Nothing would ever seem worth it.

With him . .even waking up in the morning was worth it.

She knew it for sure . .she was never going to love anyone more than him. Never feel for anyone more than him.

She loved him. .so much that she couldn't bear the thought of him going through something , anything,  harsh because of her . She loved him so hard so viciously. .that she couldn't tolerate a slight thorn hurting him and that too because of her?

Why put him in a difficult situation? Why make him pick when she could just leave silently? With her dignity intact?

She loved him enough to let him go.

And how pathetic it was that deep down she would have groveled at his feet to pick her . To have her. Because she couldn't live without him now—

Ah! If only. .

Love. . .

Such an unexplainable word.

One month back, she had arrived on her mother's doorstep looking like a person on the verges of losing everything. Even herself.

Her mother didn't ask her any questions.

She opened the door and saw her standing on her threshold at the dawn of the day.

Barely holding herself together.

All she had on was an big over sized sweat shirt and some worn out jeans. The strap of a travel bag clutched in her hand.

Her mother didn't react.

If she reacted  she wouldn't be her mother and Sarah was glad. So glad she didn't.

Because if she did. .

If she did. . Sarah wouldn't just cry.

She would drop and howl.

How hard it was to be strong? May be strong begins when a person is standing on the edge and Sarah was so damn close to that.

Her mother had let her in .

Sarah had stepped in and breathed the familiar scent of her home. Herbs mixed with tea. As far as she remembered, her mother had always been an advent tea drinker. She couldn't survive without it hence the scent of tea.

Her mother had shut the door.

"I— I need some rest." Sarah had said without looking at her.

"Alright." Was her mother's only reply.

And that day Sarah was thankful. .for the first time in her life she was thankful for the cold relationship she shared with her mother.

The creaking of the door had her jolted. She stirred on the chair , looking around and seeing her mother with two cups of tea.

She had seen the flash of pity in her mother's eyes and Sarah knew . .her mother was struggling to reach out to her.

The old woman moved towards her daughter and handed her the hot cup. Sarah took it, the tips of her fingers immediately warming.

"Thank you , mother."

She had been somewhat embarrassed at how she had treated her the last time. Asking her to leave . . .she regretted that the whole month but couldn't utter the word sorry for it sounded so foreign in her house.

Her mother didn't deal well with sorry.

She had occupied the chair beside Sarah's. The puffs of smoke raising from the cup. She too stared ahead like her daughter.

Sipping on the hot tea.

And then—

"Did he break your heart?" Her mother asked calmly.

For a moment Sarah had gone shell shocked. Heat crept up her neck. This was such a no-go area . She had never discussed the matters of her heart with her ever. And now. .

But what was the point of lying and hiding ? She was tired of putting on a show.

She was past beyond caring.

"No, mother. I broke his heart."

And break mine too. .

"Why?"

Such simple innocent word.

Why? If only Sarah could compile everything in one word. .

"Because I didn't want to be selfish. Didn't want him to choose."

Because I feared he wouldn't choose me...

Her mother hummed .

"I see. The problem is with. . you. " Her mother's comment surprised her. She glanced at her

"Me?" She asked with bewilderment.

She nodded.

"You're like your father , Sarah. You're trying to be a sacrificial lamb when. . . no one asked you to. You can fight but you choose not to. I know you regard me as some emotionless woman but you keep forgetting. You're my daughter. No one knows you more than me. You have the tendency to become a lamb for slaughter and that too. . willingly."

Sarah paled.

How did she know—

She never told a single word to anyone—

"Sarah," her mother gazed at her . .her eyes tender ," you had the chance to choose. Choose  between fighting for what you believe in and. . . leaving. Pack your bags and leaving. You chose the latter. "

"What. .are you trying to say?"

Her mother smiled. A rueful smile. .

"That you are a coward. "

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