yesterday it was raining. and she was happy, but forgetful.

like when she forgot that it was her boyfriend's birthday.

and when she forgot how aggressive he could get. 

today, though:

she forgot again. 

she forgot to put makeup on the bruises that show.

she forgot the made up answers to the questions that were usually asked about them.

I stared at them in the mirror later on, wishing that if she stared hard enough, they would disappear into thin air, and she would never have to be reminded of him.

She hated that Valentine's Day was in less than a week. 

She hated that people like him existed. 

She hated that she wished she were dead because of him.

Because when all of her little bruised feelings run out of his fuel, she'll be left there alone again. Just as she predicted, with no husband, no kids, no friends, no happiness, sadness, or anything else. 

Only a wisp or two of an April breeze floating through the air along with the slightest smell of rain and petrichor.