And I could live without you, but...«I'm afraid he'll hurt me like you did.» These words had been written four months ago, by the same girl who was crying, right in this second. They were written just a little bit after she had met the boy she liked, directed towards a girl who had already broken her heart.
At the time, Danny had thought of these words as nothing more than just her voicing out an uncontrollable fear; just that. She thought they were just words written down, that they would never be proven correct. However, it had happened.
Just like before, the girl had been broken down, torn to pieces by the one person she thought she could trust enough to never hurt her. It had all started as a misunderstanding, but then it was so much worse.
He had abandoned her, leaving her to fend on her own, all because he thought she wouldn't want to talk to him anymore... She guessed it would be logical, but still; she didn't want to have been left alone.
«I understand why he's done it, momma; I get it, really. I just wish it had been different,» typed the girl, a sigh escaping her lips as she cleaned her tears; there was no use crying now, was there? «I mean, you know how much I liked him, and... how much I still do» continued the girl, a lump in her throat as she thought about what she had agreed to.
After two months away, the boy had come back, and it had left the girl so torn, once again; she hadn't been able to forget him, yet. They had spoken, and they had agreed to say their goodbye, but then he had just... he'd started paying even more attention to her, and eventually told her he missed her.
«He misses me? I'm sure he doesn't know what missing someone truly is... If only he knew...» Said the girl, another sigh passing through her barely open pink lips. «He wants us to be friends... I said it's alright, momma. It might be selfish, but I'd rather be able to still be talking to him, even if just as friends, than not talking at all. Who knows where this can go?»
As these last words escaped her fingers, the girl closed her lips tightly, her eyes following right behind, as she let her head fall to the back of the couch she was sitting in. «I need to stop thinking this. I must realise things between me and him won't be more than just a friendship... but how can I?
Once again, a sigh passed through her, this time escaping her nose as she attempted to control her tears; it would be hard to explain the smeared make-up to her brother, if he happened to walk by the front door. She started nibbling at her bottom lip, her eyes travelling around the room as she tried to get herself back together; she should not let anything affect her, not these days.
«You know what's funny, ma? The funny thing is, now that I can stay up all night to talk to him, things have gone downhill, like this. Or maybe they will go up from this point. I don't even know, mommy. I don't want to overthink, to hope for things that won't happen,» commented the brunette, her lip still caught between her teeth. «I think I'll be writing often, now; I need to let go of all of these stupid feelings.»
When this sentence was written, it brought the girl to another subject, which was still related to the boy in question, but had barely anything that concerned him - her friends. She's had two friends know about her vulnerable state over the boy's return, and both told her to stay away from him, that he was not worth her time, but she had gone against that. She still spoke to him, and, honestly, she thought him worth of her time just as much as she did before... Maybe she forgave people too easily, but that's just who she was, after all.
«As Vee has said, ma, if they're my friends, they should support me, right? I mean, they should understand, even if they don't agree... right?» She questioned, this time worried about what would happen if she told them that she had decided to let herself become a friend of the boy who had broken her heart. «They'll understand that I'm doing this because it's best, because it wasn't completely his fault. They have to. If I don't blame him, they've got no right to.»
Blame. Who was to blame, then? The girl couldn't think of anyone but herself - seriously, she had been to blame for having such strong pathetic feelings at such an early stage, for having been so attached; she had known from the start it could happen, yet she had let herself dive in - it was her fault that she had hit her head, on the fall.
«As long as he's happy, though, ma, I guess I'll be alright; I don't care much for myself, anyway.»
... without you I'll be miserable at best.
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