She sighed softly as she sat in her room, waiting. That’s all she ever did when it came to him: wait. She figured that she should be tired of waiting for him, and truth is, she was tired of waiting. She’d wait however long it took though; she’d wait for him because she knew that he was worth the wait. There wasn’t one moment that he didn’t make her smile, even when he made her feel like crying.

She sighed again, but this time, she also ran a hand through her dark brown hair. Lying on her side, on the bed, she stared at the ceiling. It was sad, but it took a lot of her will power to not look at the phone and will it to ring. Her aura was practically begging her phone to ring. It would let her know when he called, if he called.

God, she wanted him to call. She wanted him to know that ‘hey, here I am. I’m waiting; let me in, and I promise you won’t regret it.’ She wouldn’t promise that they wouldn’t have their problems; no one could promise that. If they did, they were liars, stupid liars. She could promise that she wouldn’t hurt him; at least, she wouldn’t hurt him intentionally.

The brunette closed her eyes, willing, still, her phone to ring. She just needed one phone call to return the one that she had made hours ago. She knew it was pathetic to be hanging on one phone call that she knew wouldn’t come. She just couldn’t stop the hope that filled her heart.

She sighed again, turning onto her other side; she curled into a ball. He wouldn’t call, and that fact would tear another small piece of her heart away. It sounded dramatic, but waiting on someone to love you back, hoping, yet knowing that it wasn’t all that likely. It took a toll on one’s heart, and she let that sad, aching truth eat at her pathetically waiting heart and soul.

All she could do was wait and hope, so she would continue to wait, as patiently as she could. She’d hope with the pieces of her heart, and pray that he either loved her back, or she would finally move on with someone who did.