*sigh

She trailed a hand along the dried grass. Her steps were careful, quiet. Late fall had risen upon the world. The leaves were shriveled, and the trees beautifully indisposed. The November sun appeared fainter than usual, hanging behind ill humored autumnal clouds. Their gray masses loomed over the upcoming lake like a greedy man's hand over diamonds.
The blue satin of her dress caught on weeds. Bristles prodded her feet. But she walked, pushing clumsy ringlets from her eyes. The hill came to it's crest and the tall grass ended abruptly. Below her was the lake, faced with jagged rocks and overhangs. It's surface was a shattered glass even in the dim afternoon. A lukewarm wind whipped against her, pushing her toward the edge, and she let out a sob.
The girl looked up desperately. She let her hands slip from their wringing grip in her hair and fall lifelessly to her sides. A strap of her dress slid down her shoulder, and all around her, the girl's world collapsed. She watched everything she had ever known shatter, combust, go to hell.
It was metaphorical, of course, but it was how she felt. Everything was gone, and every breath a lost cause. Her eyes caught the water below, agonizingly far.
“Pearl,” his voice was soft, and kind, and cautious. She did not turn.
“It's over,” Pearl whispered. “I don't believe I can hold on any longer.”
“Look at me.”
“There would be no point.”
Before she could protest, his arms were around her, gripping tightly against the wind.
“ There is always hope, Pearl. Even around the darkest corner.”
“I don't know how anymore!” It came as a scream, a cry for help.
“Then come back,” he whispered, holding her closer, “come back to me.”

That small excerpt of thought is what I want. I want someone to help me, and love me. He wouldn't break my heart, or break his promises. He would save me. That's what everyone wants, someone to save them in one way or another. But we rarely get what we wish for, do we? I believe I'll have to wait a very long time to be lucky and deserving enough for such a person. When I'm told that I deserve the world, or that I should get only the best, it makes me want to scream. Those are the people who have no idea who I am.