Emotionally invested

Salty, warm wetness rolls down her cheeks, over her chin, dripping off the tip of her nose into her mouth and onto the pillow she clutches to her convulsively. Wrinkling her face to sob physically hurts, the grimace of sorrow held for far too long this time. She sniffs to suck back the more disgusting evidence of her despair, but lets the tears flow freely. To scrub them away would be to eradicate all traces of her heart's bitter, broken pieces, lying shattered on the floor, dashed against the cold cruelty of SCREENWRITERS.