Another person has fallen victim to the heartbroken syndrome.
Not me,
but the girl who’s sitting next to me at the bus station at 1 am in the morning.

The first symptoms she showed were slight.
Constantly staring down at her phone.
Desperation seemed to reflect on her face.
As if waiting for something.
A call.
A text.
Anything.

I knew she had reached stage 2 when she abruptly stood up.
Paced back and forth.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Not caring about anyone who watched.
Calling someone who clearly would never answer her.
The more she dialed, the more sick she got.

She escalated pretty quickly to the final stage once she bursted into tears.
Looking for reasons as to why everything went wrong.
Sobbing her eyes out.
As her body and feelings gave out.
Letting fall one last tear.
While she gave her last sigh.

She’s not the first victim I’ve seen.
I myself have fallen prey to this disease.
It is an illness that everyone is bound to have,
at least once in their lifetime.

And she will have to learn that,
The only cure,
The only antidote,
The only remedy,
Is time.