"why do the fat and ugly girls always like me?"
his words ring in my ears.
ten metres away, but it feels like he said it to my face.
my stomach drops to the pit of my stomach as i round the corner.
his eyes glance up at me and he grimaces.
his eyes to the ground, his fingers playing with the edge of the box he was about to put on the shelf.
i suck in my tears and stick my nails in the palm of my hand.
"you know," i whisper. "i knew you were a raging asshole, but i never thought you'd be the type to go around shaming girls."
he goes to say something but it falls off his lips into a sigh.
"i hate you, despite the fact i spent the past two years loving you and tearing myself apart over it." a tear falls and i don't bother to wipe it away. "i hate you, but it never once crossed my mind to go to my friends and ask them why i always fell for the ugly fat guys."
he takes a step forward but i step back and he stops.
looking at me.
guilt.
remorse.
oozed from everywhere.
"and the funny thing is? hearing those words from you. it still didn't make me love you any less. and i think that's more embarrassing."
and with that i walk away,
letting the tears freely fall down my face.
