The moment I left Jason’s room, my chest felt too tight.
I could not breathe in that house.
I could not breathe around him.
So I walked outside.
It was late.
The sky was dark and soft.
The moon was bright but gentle.
The wind touched my face like cold fingers.
I walked until I reached the garden wall at the back of the mansion.
There was a small bench there.
I sat on it, pulled my knees to my chest, and let myself cry.
I cried in a quiet way.
I cried like someone who was tired of begging life to be kind.
My tears kept coming, and I wiped them again and again.
“Why does my heart hurt so much?” I whispered.
I thought about the kiss Jason gave me.
About how warm it felt.
About how safe I felt in his arms… for one small moment.
And about how he pushed me away after.
It broke
