Happy Sad Short Story

The Journal

"It all started a year ago. When I got attached. Maybe too attached -Wait, I'll get to that later. Let's start from the beginning

I was a loner at the time. Always stayed inside. I had very few friends, the ones I did have were online. I was possibly one of the most anti-social people you could ever meet. That had changed when I met him. My life became brighter. I would get excited just by talking to him. We would talk all the time.

Half a year later, I started a journal. At first it started off with me writing about my day. Things such as what I did, the people I talked to. Things like that. As time went on I noticed that he was mentioned in most of my entries. At first I thought nothing of it. I told myself it just meant we were becoming good friends

But the more we talked, the more I wrote about him. That's when I knew I had feelings for him. I would get so happy when he would ask to talk to me. My heart would race every time he called my name. I couldn't keep my feelings to myself any longer. When I finally worked up the courage to tell him, I spilled my heart to him. Only to be turned down.

We still talked after he rejected me. But he seemed distant. Conversations got shorter and shorter. Until he stopped talking to me all together. I would text him and wouldn't get a reply. Until one day. He texted me.

"I'm sorry, but I dont think we should talk anymore..."

"why?"

"I just don't feel like our friendship will work out. But it was nice talking to you"

At that moment, I felt as if my heart had been crushed into a million tiny pieces. It hit my like a punch to the chest.

I went to grab the journal out od the top of my closet, along with a box of matches out of my drawer. Walking outside, I tried my best to hold back my tears. I grabbed the gasoline tank near the grilled and tossed the journal into the fire pit. As I doused the book in gasoline, I grabbed a match, lit it, and dropped it into the pit.

I watched the journal slowly burn as my tears streamed down my cheeks