Too Old

She felt old. Like the world was pushing down on her for too long and she did not have springs in her feet to jump back up. Like yesterday's sunset was the last one she will ever see. Like for the first time, life is too long.
Like she had already passed the finish line, but she kept running.
Like being alone wasn't punishment enough, it had to last forever, and then when she found someone, she lost them in a blink.
Her eyes could not see the far away bright expectations others had, nor could they see the little miracles right before them. They could only see that cold, empty space in the middle.
Sometimes here views were brightened by the glasses of a laugh following a family dinner burnt chicken, or a grandchild's picture just for her, but those were merely moments.
She would slowly walk the peaceful park she use to storm through, making sure she's not home late from the dance.
Her lungs were too weak to accept all the air she wanted them to have, and the smell of sweet flowers no longer reached her memories.
She was lost in the town she grew up in, feeling very well every one of her memories being pushed out and replaced by someone else's, younger and stronger.

She did not know about the bright memories others had of her, never to be forgotten.
So she felt too old.

Cicmila