Frag-ile

"You're fragile," he said. All I'd said in the last 5 to 7 minutes, cross my heart and hope to die, was all that I felt. It wasn't rocket science. But for him, it was like having a cable that was too short to reach the freaking extension cord. Men, are not supposed to be this narrow OR this stupid. And toxic waste, isn't something you're supposed to be submerged in or this deep in. How the fuck did I get here...?
I sat on the edge of my tub, itching tattoo, twitching right hand, heart pounding like it was inside of an empty tin can.

"I might be fragile, but at least I'm not like you," I muttered.
"What's that supposed to mean?" He sounded puzzled.
I rolled my eyes, as if he could see 'em.
"At least I'm not fucking broken. You're a TOOL. A useless, disconnected, good for nothing tool!" I exclaimed.
My words, broke like energy crackling in the air. I can't take that back. But, I don't think I want to and I doubt I need to. Fuck him. Hold THAT L, bro. I thought.

The descent into the worst possible relationships begins...
Join Alexandria on her journey through this painstaking, jaw dropped and IQ challenging matter.

You're. Fragile.