My heart felt heavy and my body ached.
I got home over an hour ago and I still can’t process why I am lying down on my bed, staring at the door, hoping Trevor would barge in and tell me he wasn’t the one who outed me.
Foolish.
Yet I can’t help it. Even if my heart hurts at the thought of his name, I still wished it wasn’t him, that I won’t have to hate me. After how he’s good he’s made me feel these past weeks.
I just don’t want to believe so easily that it was all lie, a scheme to get to me, to break me evenly.
Despite it all, I was wrong, thinking we were building something different, forming a bond. Perhaps my desperation for any form of love made me see it that way.
My ribs stung as I turned on the bed and my stomach twists from pain.
I haven’t eaten all day; it was impossible
