There's an ancient word:

Mágoa.

A heart breaking feeling that leaves long lasting traces.

Visible in gestures and facial expressions.

I experience Mágoa often.

Whenever another of the suitors my mother selected for me kisses my hand, complimenting my beauty.

Whenever someone glances over their shoulder my way.

Whenever someone smiles to me in a certain way.

It all reminds me of the day I first met you.

When I glanced towards you, and you promptly looked towards the ground in embarrassment.

But I'd seen the way you looked at me.

I saw the slight flush of pink that came to your cheeks.

It's been a year.

And I'm convinced no one will ever look at me the same way again.

So instead,

I'll just be at peace with Mágoa.

And pray that one day the torture will cease.

-Brianna Cecille Blades