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CHAPTER TWENTY
☆
𝘛𝘝 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘔𝘈𝘙𝘐𝘑𝘜𝘈𝘕𝘈 are the only things getting me through whatever this is. I don't want to call it a breakup because it's not that. She was never mines and I was never hers. The realization of that hits hard and I tell myself I have no reason to be crying. Because I don't. I've been hurt way worse by other people. This will pass and I'll move on from her, hopefully soon because I haven't had any energy to get up and go anywhere. I was so worried about her failing that I'm now worried about myself.
It's been almost two weeks since the last time I've seen her, four days since her last call, and three days since her last text. Seventy-two to be exact. She's sent me seventy-two messages since that night and I haven't responded to a single one. Each one of them is more desperate than the one before. Thankfully, she gave up, it would suck for her to waste her time like that. I meant every word when I said I didn't know her, and what she said just proves it even more.
"The most I know about you is that you live with your mom, you need therapy for whatever reason, and you like being fucked in public bathrooms by girls you apparently don't know very well."
Her words keep replaying in my head and I blame myself. I blame myself for letting her touch me, I blame myself for initiating it, I blame myself for even going in that bathroom with her. What did I think? She'd make me cum and we'd live happily ever after?
A part of me hates myself for getting close to her and another, very small part of me wants to grab that phone and reply to every single message. But I can't, she hurt me once. She'll do it again.
"Sweetheart. Remember Micheal is coming over tonight for dinner at 7:30." My mom peeks into my room, her face trying to hide whatever she's feeling. It's a mess in here. I've door-dashed every day for the past two weeks and it shows. My clothes and make-up are everywhere as if I've gone out, but I haven't. But hey, at least I haven't completely stopped taking care of my hygiene.
Micheal is the name of the tall, hot, Asian guy -Korean to be exact- that looks like he could star in any and every K-drama. She's been clearly very happy with him and wants us to formally meet. After that door fiasco.
"Uh. Yea, I'll be there." I send her a smile, but she clearly doesn't buy it. She eyes my room once more before closing it and turning around. As soon as she leaves, I let out a sigh and pull my blankets over my head. I quickly come back up seeing as my blankets stink, probably because I haven't washed them in a minute. I stand up, throw it somewhere random on the floor and go to my closet to grab a new one,
As I grab a new blanket, I hear my phone ding from its spot on the bed. My heart jerks at the thought that it could be Sage trying to reach out again. I'm pissed at her and yet the thought of her still makes me react the same. I shake the thought of her out of my head. Best to start now, I won't be seeing her again.
