Sasha, unlike David, was still lost in seeking her revenge on the world. Her heart ached for all her losses, all the rejection, all the loneliness. Anger felt like a friend, because it distracted her from that ache. It gave her the energy to go forward.
And so she threw her anger about until it found a target. When it did, the momentary satisfaction of transferring her own heart ache to someone else created a sense of elation. For that wonderful, lovely moment, Sasha’s lungs could expand and take in the oxygen her soul needed to survive.
This frosty late autumn morning, the target of Sasha’s anger was her friend Kassandra. As it had been so many years ago, when Sasha had walked out on her friend after that horrible night at the lake. The loving kindness of Kassandra’s presence served as a constant rub of irritation, and this morning was no exception.
It is, perhaps, a universal truth that the broken heart, using anger as its lifeline, finds itself attracted to the warmest, most loving hearts. Craving that love, unable to admit its longing, the broken heart tries to move closer to the source of warmth by using a poisoned spear.
Sasha sent her spear forward this way: asking Kassandra about the progress of her artistic projects, feigning support, until deep into Kassandra’s description of her love for metalwork and welding, Sasha saw her opportunity.
“Oh, that sounds so cool, Kass. Really wonderful. I really admire you, you know, for moving forward with your passion when it is ultimately so pointless. I mean, art, right? It’s not a living. It’s a hobby. But you just keep at it as if it’s the most important thing in the world. I admire your ability to stay in denial. I wish I could do the same.”
The wounded look in Kassandra’s eyes fed Sasha’s broken heart the quick dose of superiority she needed. She turned back to her work at the coffee shop, picking up a bag of beans to throw into the grinder, and whistled softly.
Kassandra, however, was not wounded for herself. She’d glimpsed her old friend’s broken heart in the sneak attack, and wanted nothing more than to wrap Sasha in a big hug. How, Kassandra thought, how can I help her? She is so broken.