Each rain drop felt colder than the last. I had always loved the rain. However, I loved it in a very sad type of way. I loved it because it gave off the same sense of sadness I always felt at my very core. It made me feel so much less alone in my aloneness. Perhaps the sky was crying for me. wouldn't that be something? For the first time in my life someone understood my sadness and it was the whole goddamn sky.
I looked up and watched the rain drops in the dim glow of a campus light. I repeated the repetitive mantra that had been ringing in my head for 18 years "You're fine You're fine. You don't even care. Nobody cares" I stopped for a minute and did something rare for myself.
There I stood, at 1:00 am on a Tuesday night, under the dim streetlight all alone. Tears began to fall and I barely even noticed. The rain mixed with my tears and carried them away. I hardly ever cried. Only on those days every few months where I just simply, could not handle my life. However on this particular night I knew that was not why I was crying. I was crying for my past self who was hidden somewhere in the back of my brain watching what I was becoming.
All I have yearned for my entire life was love. Something I had never experienced. But, since coming to college I had allowed myself to find love in places love would never be found.
I thought love would be found in a tiny little dorm room that smelled like boy.
I thought love would be found with a boy I barely knew rolling around in his bed losing clothes and touching skin
However, I was so sadly mistaken.
So at 1:00am a boy kicked me out of his room, after treating me with the furthest thing from love, and now I walk home alone in the rain.
almost poetic huh?
a young girl looks for love in sex but cries as she walks home in the rain.
I kicked a stump with my dirty white Adidas.
more like pathetic.
As I reached my room I peeled of my wet shoes and climbed into my bed still wearing my soaking wet clothes.
suddenly a wave of calmness spread throughout my body.
I would simply choose not to care. I envisioned myself filing this night away in a drawer in my brain and resolved it in the only way I knew how.
I would never think about it again,
I didn't need anyone and I never would. that was just the way my life worked.
YOU ARE READING
The Diary of the Infamous
Short StoryStories, poems, and letters from 2 very different girls who lived a life of trouble, pain, heartbreak, and of course wild fun.