Frustrated.
Time moves slowly in my mind, even if the minutes tick like seconds.
Aggravated.
Not a word could release the pressure building in my skull.
Tormented.
The language I would use if I were to tell you how you made me feel.
She doesn't think a second thought of it.
But I do.
Every moment quickly becomes a year as her words cascade through the peaceful meadow that was me.
I feel every good thought drained as her sick lies fill me to the brim with regret for ever opening my mouth and saying hello.
And even though it feels like a millennium before I respond, mere moments have passed.
I take a deep breath and the pain is gone.
In the blink of an eye I've already forgotten why I'm angry.
The blink of her beautiful eyes.