I sprinted as fast as I could to Luke's house, the note in my hand.
Luke. Luke couldn't leave. He wasn't a bad person. This was terrible, I'm terrible.
I didn't tell him earlier. This is bad, this is very bad.
I hate myself. I love Luke.
My feet pounded against the cracking cement and the January sun beated down on me even though it wasn't supposed to because it was January.
I hate myself. I love Luke.
My hair fell in front of my eyes and I pushed it back. He couldn't go. The paper was clutched tightly in my hand and I nearly stopped running to realize the importance of it. I didn't stop running, but I still knew. The notes were us. The notes are what made us-- well, us.
I got to his door and knocked once. He opened the door. My small fingers opened up Luke's hand and I put the note in his palm. He kissed me on his front porch in front of the neighbors shovelling snow.
"I hate myself, but I have you to love." he told me after he pulled away.
