I stumble back to my room, every step heavier than the last.
When I shut the door, I slide down against it, my hands shaking.
And then I let go.
I can’t hear myself crying, but I feel the tears falling, and the icky feeling comes back.
The tears burn, and everything hurts.
I wasn’t going to go, you know.
His words won’t stop echoing in my head.
He would’ve stayed.
And I said nothing.
I want to tell him I love him.
I want to tell him I need him.
I want to tell him he’s the only way I can breathe.
I want so much that I can’t have, and the feeling of helplessness overwhelms me.
It’s too late.It always is.
And now all of it is just… gone.
I feel sick and selfish.
I should be happy for him. He can never stop talking about that team. He has an obsession with it.
His grandfather played on it.
What’s wrong with me!
I crawl into bed, pulling my blanket over my head like it can shield me from everything.
My chest aches in that raw, physical way, like something inside me is being ripped out slowly.
I keep hearing his voice in my head, calm but breaking.
If you gave me a reason to stay, I would.
I hate myself.
I hate this life.
I hate my stupid brain.
I hate my stupid heart.
Because there is no one to blame but me.
Tilly.
You screwed up, and no one is there to help you, because you made sure to mess everything up.
