Deepwood Weald Black-eyed Susan

Reverie felt helpless; exposed. This was not what she'd intended at all, but like so many others, the dark-eyed woman looked at her and saw something broken. Someone in need of help.
Was that really what she was?
She shook her head, but simultaneously burst into tears. She was not in danger, but constantly felt somehow as if she was; as if she teetered dangerously at something like a cliff's edge, coasting on a high but always with the threat of that sudden fall. It felt like she was falling now. Reverie thought again of her husband, and was filled with self-loathing. She took several steps back, dizzy now, then abruptly turned and bolted through the trees. She felt like a child all over again, and any notion of being desirable was chased from her mind.