I really hate crying. I hate it. I mean, there is nothing and I mean nothing fun about blotchy red eyes, a huge lump stuck in your throat and your heart ripping apart to every wretched sob that leaves your mouth. I hate the headache. I hate the heartache.
I promised myself I wouldn’t cry over you because you’re not worth it. Nobody’s worth locking myself up in the bathroom listening to shitty love songs until I can feel my body break into pieces. Nobody’s worth staring blankly into space for an hour afterwards, trying to get rid of the pounding against my temples.
Do you know how valuable tears are? In Harry Potter, Snape’s tears were used to capture all his precious memories with the one girl he lived for. In The Holiday, Cameron Diaz couldn’t even cry after how many years ever since her parents got divorced. Do you know how much I refuse to cry over you, because you seriously make me feel like I’m the most worthless person who is not worth any of your time?
You may not realize it, but I put so much effort for you. I drop everything, everything to talk to you. God knows what the hell goes on in my head and in my heart when I feel like I could possibly disappoint you, when I feel like there’s a chance I could mess up. But you – god, you don’t see any of it, do you? You don’t see me at all.
Sometimes, I even feel like you don’t care.
For the first time, I feel so defeated. But for the first and last time, I’m going to cry over you – over you, me, “us” and whatever the hell is left of it.
I’m fucked. Totally fucked.