Zombie
I loved her. At times, like the sister I never had, other times much more. She was my other half. It was hard to believe we could have a connection like that, even though we’ve never physically met. Our friendship seemed so unreal. It was like a movie. We could talk to each other about literally any and everything. We were inseparable, “two peas in a pod” people would say. That is – until I ruined everything.
The breakup didn’t only affect us two. It caused a ripple – ruining everything in its path, including me. Her obnoxious boyfriend verbally attacked me, attempting to defend her, not knowing my side of the story. Our group of friends, “The Dropouts”, was completely split. Some of them took my side, others took hers. A few remained neutral. But no one was left unscathed.
I never intended for everything to end up that way. My jealousy and selfish-ness got the better of me and our whole group of friends paid the price for it. Now, most of us barely even talk. If I could go back and fix everything before it got out of control, I would. I only have myself to blame.
Do you know the feeling of not only having your heart ripped out of you, but tearing it to shreds, while stabbing it at the same time? Losing her was worse than getting dumped by a boyfriend. It was worse than me not moving to California to follow my dreams. Worse than my favorite character getting killed off. I imagine, worse than death.
The breakup didn’t only affect us two. It caused a ripple – ruining everything in its path, including me. Her obnoxious boyfriend verbally attacked me, attempting to defend her, not knowing my side of the story. Our group of friends, “The Dropouts”, was completely split. Some of them took my side, others took hers. A few remained neutral. But no one was left unscathed.
I never intended for everything to end up that way. My jealousy and selfish-ness got the better of me and our whole group of friends paid the price for it. Now, most of us barely even talk. If I could go back and fix everything before it got out of control, I would. I only have myself to blame.
Do you know the feeling of not only having your heart ripped out of you, but tearing it to shreds, while stabbing it at the same time? Losing her was worse than getting dumped by a boyfriend. It was worse than me not moving to California to follow my dreams. Worse than my favorite character getting killed off. I imagine, worse than death.
Photo used under Creative Commons from NASA Goddard Photo and Video