I cried over a boy for the first time in my life today.
And the bad thing is that it wasn't even anything the dumb bastard said or did. He's the most perfect gentleman I've ever met, and I am oh so in like with him. And for a while, I let myself hope. He was kind and called me beautiful and I thought, perhaps, that he cared like I did. But he acts like a puppy around a girl who is not me, tripping over himself in eagerness to show off his art project. I didn't even notice. But we left the art room, and Sarah said, "You can tell how much he likes her." Somehow, I had let myself forget. And that little bit of hope died.
I don't know if her cruelty was an accident, or an intentional act of jealousy, but God it hurt.
I knew he liked her, but I was stupid and I forgot. I got halfway through a phone conversation with McKenzie before the tears started. She didn't even notice I was crying.
I know that this sounds like a page from a bad chick lit novel, the kind I never touch. And I feel like saying "heartbroken" is cliche and a total exaggeration...but I've gained a vague understanding of the concept. I liked him so much and I made the whole damn thing up in my head, just like a damn, stupid girl.
It was just...one of those days.
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