It was kind of like a bad dream.
I picked up the phone, thought everything was fixed, finally, but in reality, everything was so much worse.
You know that really bad cliche, "walls came tumbling down" or whatever?
It was like that, only it wasn't just walls, it was the floor and the ceiling, too. So I'm left, like, sitting on chairs in my front yard.
I feel completely naked and exposed. I put myself out there. If love were real...
Maybe love is just this fake word for really, really liking somebody. Either way. Maybe I loved him. Maybe I didn't. Either way, that hurt. A lot.
The worst part was when he told me that is was my fault, because he couldn't trust me.
I don't want to be with him again when he's gone. I don't want to be his friend right now. I don't want to talk to him. I don't want him to know that he actually affected me, but that crazy part of me wants to demonstrate every single day how much I hate him.
If he would just come back...
I'm just so confused. I hate him.
If he hadn't told me that...
I knew something was wrong. I just didn't know it was this wrong.
I want to cry again.