11:11 \\ mgc [completed]

19:00

["said i'd never leave her, 'cause her hands fit like my tee shirt" - over again, one direction]

Your friend called me.

The same friend I remember crushing on two years back. His piercing and wanna be rebel look were appealing, in a way I did not quite understand. It was stupid, because I knew I could never have him. But then you came along, and my crush on him seemed like the stupidest thing in the world because how could I ever like someone else with you in my life?

But I was just a silly girl. I made a mistake; I messed up. I kissed him, right under your roof, at the same place you'd kissed me.

And I felt dirty, horrible, useless because what had you ever done to deserve an unfaithful girlfriend like me? But you didn't shout at me. You didn't break up with me. You hugged me as I cried, wiped my tears and told me that it wasn't my fault. I never understood why I got someone so wonderful like you. You'd never even looked at a girl while you were with me and I'd went ahead and kissed your best friend. But you didn't mind, and I didn't know whether to cry because you were such a beautiful person or because I had strangled your beauty with my own bare hands.

Your friend and I hadn't talked since that night.

But then he called me, and I felt more horrible than ever. I picked up.

"Hey," he said.

"Hello."

"It's your fault" he said, and I gripped my phone tighter. I knew it, dammit, I knew it was my fault.

"I know."

"I don't understand why he liked you in the first place!" He shouted and I cringed. I could tell he had been drinking.

"I'm sorry," was all I could say. Because what else could I say to your best friend, what else other than a sorry?

"No, you're not! You're a cheap little bitch and he deserved so much better than you!" He whispered this time, almost like he was as broken as me. I believed he was hurting more than I was, because when did I ever see you cry? When I came to think of it, I was the crybaby in our relationship. You were the pillar, supporting my sob stories and holding me up. You probably told your best friend everything. He probably knew about you more than I ever could.

"I know,"

"Tell me, how many guys have you kissed besides me?" He chuckled, his voice cold.

"None." I replied, because it was true. I loved you with all I had, and kissing someone else was the last thing I wanted to do.

"I don't believe you."

"I'm sorry."

"Honestly? Fúck you."

I cut the line. I couldn't stand his false accusations. Couldn't he see how much I loved you?

Why couldn't you see how much I loved you?