The First Time My Heart Broke.

I’m sitting on my bathroom floor at four o’clock on an autumn afternoon. This is the only place I can be without anyone questioning me. Below me is the cold blue tile floor, to my right the toilet, my left the matching blue towels. The air smells like soap and the fan is on to block out my hysterical crying. I am alone. I’m leaning against the bathtub hysterical crying and hyperventilating, trying not to puke. It’s not going so well for me.

I am heartbroken. That’s right; a fifteen year old girl can have her heart ripped to shreds. Him and I are over. I feel like garbage. My head is spinning so fast. I’m such a wreck. Why did he do this to me?! I love him so, so much! He loves me too! He has to! I wish it wasn’t like this. I wish we were still together. I wish I got my happy ending.

Well, here it is. I’m alone on my bathroom floor, tired, cold, nauseous, and heartbroken. Some happy ending, huh?

He doesn’t love me and I feel like I want to die. I do’t know how I’m going to go on like this. I hate him. I hate my life. I hate love. People say love is amazing. Well it was until now. How come no one lets you know in advance about this? How love sucks so much. How I feel like someone is pushing on my chest and my heart isn’t with me. Alex stole it from me and tore it into pieces. I’m in pieces. My heart is in pieces. My whole life is in pieces.

Why?! Why did this have to happen to me?! Oh god! I really think I’m going to puke!!!

I love him so, so, so freaking much! Why did he do this to me?!

What I don’t know yet is will I ever get over him?

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