i know what i said. the words were sharp and bitter, like the cold that bit at every naked bit of my body that night. i was in the awkward in-between of the slightly inebriated and the stumbling drunk, a drunken metamorphosis with no pretty outcome.
you stayed calm the whole time, which made me even angrier. i wanted you to be upset, to fight for me, to want me. you didn’t. you were the grown up, younger than me by sheer numbers, but not where it counted.
not in your heart, not your mentality.
“are you sure you’re okay with this?” please don’t be okay with this.
“i’m fine, really. it’s the smart thing to do, for both of us.”
“i don’t want to hurt you or anything.” be hurt. tell me you’re pissed.
“it’s seriously okay. i promise.”
and like that, it was over. the late night talks, the graze of your hand as it passed by mine, the kisses that you blew. i know that i was the one who called it off but you’re the one who ended it.
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berrrgurl said:
interesting.
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jess-i-caca liked this
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ryanscribbles posted this
