Let me in or let me go

I don't need him

Gabby's POV 

I storm out of the restaurant in a flurry of anger and frustration. Who the fuck does he think he is? I make my way to the tube station but before I enter the station I send a text to Tarek. You son of a bitch. Why the fuck are you acting like a little dickhead for? Do you think you're Big Brother or something spying on me? Stay the hell away from me. Oh, by the way, we're over.  

I take out my sim card and snap it in half. He wants me to track me? Good luck with that. 

Tears stream down my face as I snuggle under my duvet. Tarek and I had been best friends since we were young. He had lived on the same street as me until a couple of years back when his family moved to a house about a twenty minute walk away. We went to the same primary and secondary school, and also the same sixth form. Over the years our friendship grew and flourished. He was a popular lad and was pretty much loved by everyone he met. Being loud and cocky came naturally to him and he could make everyone laugh. He was an excellent listener, the life and soul of a party and always down for anything. He had your back when you needed him and was always loyal. He was energetic, spontaneous and he was always making me try new things out. The negative side of him: the quick temper, the sudden mood change, the need for control and the lack of emotion was something I would just accept as a part of him and so would our mutual friend Annalise. At the beginning of our last year at Sixth Form we both realised that we had feelings for each other and decided to give it a go. It had been great for one whole year; we pretty much acted the same way we had as always but for the past few months as soon as he started University the negative aspects of him became amplified. He was always getting angry at me, constantly moody, increasingly controlling and he wouldn't let me know how he was feeling, what he was thinking about. The latter I should be used to by now because he had hardly ever, in the 19 years I've known him, willingly shared his thoughts with me nor would he know how to respond to me when I showed him how I felt. It had never bothered me how unemotional he was or just how insensitive he could be because I knew he could not help it - he had lots of experiences in his childhood and growing up as a teenager which made him turn out to be detached - but as our relationship progressed it was increasingly frustrating me.  

Suddenly my room door bursts open snapping me out of my thoughts.