Ophelia loved with all her heart, but her love was a river destined to overflow. Hamlet left her with broken words, fleeting glances, and cutting silences. Pain became an echo, and the echo turned into madness. Her hands wove flowers, her soul wove itself into solitude. Rivers keep the secrets of fragile souls. In the water, she found her refuge—no revenge, just the silent embrace of fate. Ophelia is not just a character. She is the cry of those who love too much and are left to drift away. Perhaps she became part of the river. Part of us.