"This isn't you Cade." My voice is small.
I don't know if I'll ever understand why he suddenly changed, but I'm grateful he did. Whatever happened to him is a benefit to what is happening to us right now.
Cade tucks the strands of my hair that fall...
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Salty streams of tears rush down my eyes like a waterfall. I must look pathetic, I feel so pathetic.
I'm crying?
I'm actually fucking crying.
I can't comprehend the fact that I'm crying over a guy. Never in a million years did I ever think I would cry because of a guy.
I always insulted and cussed at those teen girls I watched in movies, where they cry over the guy they like. And now, I'm one of them.
Actually I'm not, because they cry out of breakup and rejection. But I wasn't together with Cade in the first place to be crying because of him, like I just lost a loved one in a terrible accident or something.
Still, I can't help it. It hurts so bad. I feel like he has already rejected me by the way he acts around me.
Tired of the breakdown of mine, I push myself off the floor, where I've been sitting against the door. I've been crying non-stop since Cade left. I don't know how long it's been.
Making everything all worst, my head spins when I stand on my feet. I feel pain from all over my body and the mild headache I started having increased substantially.
Wiping my face dry, I start walking upstairs to my room. I wish I could say I'm crying because of Cade alone, but it isn't just him.
I hold onto the wooden stairs railing for a form of support as I walk upstairs. I leave everything downstairs just the way they are and went into my room.
I've had shitty days before, but today has surpassed them enormously. And that includes what happened six years ago.
I can't believe I'm comparing the accident that almost cost my life to stupid emotions for a guy.
And yet, stupid emotions wouldn't hurt me like this.
I walk into the bathroom after closing my bedroom door behind me. I bent my upper half over the sink, turn on the faucet and wash my face with water.
I raise my head to the mirror above, seeing my awful looking reflection. I look so sick and it's not just with my health. I feel sick physically and mentally.
With no warning or incoming awareness, my chest strikes with raging pain. Not again.
I bring my right wet hand to my chest, rubbing it soothingly. The pain in my chest easily drives to shortness of breath, cutting off my intake of air.
