This.

This isn't something I ever thought I would ever have to ever worry about. No one plans to be cheated on. No one thinks they'll fall for that kind of person. Everyone thinks they would leave the second it happened.

Unfortunately the world is gray.

I hate this. I hate that you did this. I know that it could've been worse, but could it? Could it really? I can't trust you. Not at all. Who knows what else you've lied about? Who knows if you're actually even owning up now? Was anything you ever said even true?

Because you didn't say sorry. Not once in our whole conversation. And you didn't seem remorseful. And somehow I got through that conversation, got through today, and I felt okay, even about us. But the more I think about it the more I start to wonder how much of this is me being a stupid girl who's fallen for a boy that doesn't deserve her.

And I just hate that the clock is ticking. I hate that I feel like I have to make the most out of our last few days. There is no hope of things happening naturally. I have to force it if I want to make this work. And somehow I can't feel like that's adding to the lies. I can't help but feel cheated; after all the work I did to get you, to keep you, I loose you only to circumstance.

And is it wrong that I'm almost not hurt? Yeah, I saw it coming I guess, but more. Like I expected it. Like I believed that I wasn't enough. No matter how hard I try I suddenly doubt whether it's just lies, or whether I ever actually make you happy.

It's not the worst, no. Cause mostly what I got out of this is that I'm fucking awesome and you're a goddamn twat. Too busy winning at life to shed a tear over someone who clearly didn't even deserve that.

Because I get you. And I know that sounds dumb to say, but I do. All your lies, all your bullshit. All your front that you put up so incredibly convincingly. But I see the cracks in the foundation. I see you for who, for what you are. Read you like a book even. I think that's part of why you lasted this long. You're a puzzle I wanted to solve; infuriated by how close and how far the answer always felt. And last night I saw it in your eyes. Some part of it got through to you. Finally, you weren't bullshit and innocent eyes and cocky humor - for just a moment, you were real.

I can't help be impressed at my composure. Livid, pulsating with anger, I still don't think even a word was out of place. Not an action would I change.

Mostly I just hate that you betrayed me after how good I've been too you.

Mostly I just hate the fact that I can't shake the feeling that as strong as I feel now, I might be in for another summer of crying myself to sleep alone each night over a boy who doesn't even care.