I remember it clearly.

The way the sky looked permanently tired from thick gray clouds, the way I looked like the sky had fallen on me. Even the way my voice cracked from begging the bus driver to let me get off when I was short on money to pay the fare.

That was a miserable memory.

My clothes were soaked that day from the rain, mascara streaked down from my freezing cheeks and my mind was filled with the sound of camera shutters and laughter from the world that watched me fall apart from my messy divorce.

And the very few people I went to for help discarded me...