This has no structure or literaryness- just me right now.
You may not understand this. Scratch that- you definitely will not understand this. You may ignore this work of mine.

"And so we shall be leaving tomorrow; you must pack quickly, and be sure not to pack anything too flashy", the words of her mother a few hours ago rang through her ears. She sighed. This time the next day, they would be on the flight to her hometown, for a sudden and unexpected catastrophe had fallen upon the family.

Her uncle, who she had labelled as her 'best friend' in her youth, had passed away, leaving two young children- not even finished secondary school yet- and a widowed wife in his wake. He had succumbed to a brain tumour, and the last few months had been tense and stressful, as they fought to keep alive a man who was on the doorstep of death. She had been especially worried, but, as she realized with a start now, for a different reason altogether.

For she found herself unable to mourn her uncle, or even feel a bit of sadness at his passing. She was completely numb, and what she really worried about was facing the rest of the family. Their tear-stained faces, their loud sobs and their pained hearts- they would soon realize that she was blank. Emotionless.

She had put so much effort, tried so hard to build this facade of hers, of strength and stability, that she found it difficult to tear it down. It had become the armour she had worn, but now fit too tight on her and hindered her every action. She needed to be perfect, strong, and thus created this barrier between her mind and her heart- and she was proud of it. Yet she wandered, desolate, aimlessly, trying to block out the frantic thoughts running through her head, unable to figure out the reason for her distress.

Until she found another with experiences just like hers. Another who had built this armour too, tight and durable. She smiled and admired the bravery of this other person, for crafting such a facade is no simple task. Yet, as she read her words, she was distraught. Mortified. And suddenly, she understood.

She was imperfect. She was flawed. She was damaged. And she was beautiful in that.

The tears flowed out of her eyes, unnoticed, and mingled with the earth under her feet; silent and strong. And she rejoiced in them.

The End

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