By Rachel Vargeletis | Observer Contributor
Never in my life do I remember my chest physically hurting more than it did the moment I realized I meant nothing. I breathed, I was alive, but I wasn’t living. It, pathetically enough, seemed like my world was over. It felt as if he was ringing my heart dry in his clenched fists, drawing out every last bit of worth and feeling I could try to muster. There was a new crack developing in every one of my bones as each word bounced off his tongue, one by one in a calamitous nose dive.