Losing.

"How do you feel?" She enquires, her steady voice is almost enough to blanket over the smug look on her face. My paranoid mind translates her simple enquiry to "How do you feel after we've just crushed and stomped over your hopes and dreams?"

I feel like I've received the most excruciatingly painful stab one can receive, the kind that isn't aimed towards any vital organs and is enough to let you live and feel everything. I feel like I've been hit by a giant double decker bus, the wheels rolling back and forth when the driver backed up again to check if he hit a deer or some sort of lone, wild animal.

"I feel fine."