She drudges along. Painstakingly slow. Examining and viewing every shard of broken memories, dreams, and wishes strewed amongst her feet. There’s so many and often she doesn’t know where to begin.
A light beams from one of the shards. Carefully she picks it up. The memory burns. Flashes of fear and panic knock her over. She drops the memory as she sits on the ground weeping. She doesn’t want to get back up but she’ll drown if she stays.
Time shifts and moves. She questions if she's capable of progress. Information and memories flood faster and the feeling of deep sadness has taken hold from within her.
She’s unable to patch the holes in her heart. They only seem to expand.
She longs for affirmation that she exists yet she knows that her individual existence was denied. What exists is something that never should have been. Now there is only grief of existential change.
No meaning to the pain inflicted it is now and always been up to her to figure out how to go forward. One thing remains the same from who she was supposed to be and who she has become: she is alone.