Could You...

“Could you please not hold my hand so hard. And not look at me like I just stabbed you in the heart. And we do need to work on your lying.”

“Why do you have to ask me so many damn questions? I can’t stop lying, I don’t want to. It’s part of who I am, just like the cynical part, and the morbidly dark humour. If you want me to ease up, just say it. Don’t say it like I should know. For the love of Christ, maybe I just won’t hold your hand. Jesus. Maybe I should just leave.”

“If you want to leave. Go ahead. I’ll lock the door behind you and you don’t ever have to come back. I’ll find another girl, one who doesn’t treat me like shite.”

“Fuck you!”

Maybe I shouldn’t have slammed his door when I left. But for the love of Christ I was pissed, no… angry with him. But he’s right, I have treated him like shite. Not my fault my best friend’s a guy. Maybe I shoulda tried harder. I would ask him to take me back, but he’s got her now. He’s just dating her to make me jealous. He’s doing a good job… Dammit!!!

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