XXXVIII

When I finally get home, I full on hate myself. He means so much to me, and I lost it all simply because I was too much of a prude to tell him that I liked him back.

Of course I like him! I probably feel even more for him, but I am too much of a damned romantic and want every moment to be perfect. I have no idea how I managed to drag myself home, but I somehow did. My eyes are puffy and red from all the crying and I throw my bag across the living room. My phone still in my hands, I go upstairs to my room, and collapse on the floor next to my window, looking up at the moon.

I fucked it all up. I can't lose him, he means too much to me. I close