The slap echoes like a gunshot in my head. My cheek burns, as I clutch it, crying. I suppose I deserved what was coming to me, but I'll never admit it* I am a horrible person.
I would LOVE for you to break up with me.
Or let me break up with you.
But neither of those things are happening. :D
So I will continue to pretend I'm happy, when really I just want to smack your hand and tell you to back off.
Ah.
I'll smile, and hug you, telling you I love you.
I'll pretend that love songs are about you, I'll never complain.
i'll tell your friends how happy i am.
And then
When I get home.
I'll forget you exist.
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