"Be a good student, baby, and open your mouth for me."
. . .
In which 20-year-old Alyssa Silvestro decides to seduce her professor, who happens to be the older brother of her cheating ex-boyfriend.
Revenge is best served cold, is what they say.
"But I crumble completely when you cry, it seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye."
. . .
I head home for the weekend, feeling a bit better than I have for days, yet still empty. The talk with Matteo helped me get some closure, and it feels good now knowing that I don't hold as much anger.
Because holding onto it is just exhausting and would've made me bitter.
So, some of the weight has gone, but the anxiety and emptiness that have taken place inside me haven't wavered.
I still don't find myself wanting to do anything, I don't find anything to smile about and when my parents come and greet me, I'm just not present.
I know it'll pass, but the process of it is so damn painful.
Putting my bag on my desk chair, I quickly shower and change into other clothes before collapsing on my bed.
And I plan on following the same routine as I do in my apartment.
Absolutely nothing and just wallow.
Now, though, I decide to get up and change the scene. I'll do it in the library, sitting in front of the giant TV while watching something.
I head to the library and enter, internally cheering when I see that no one is here and I take a seat on the couch.
My dad never understood why there's a TV in the library, but mom insisted on it for some reason.
The library changed into the comfort room over time, though I rarely use it, except for now.
Turning on Disney+, I scroll through some movies and shows, to then settle on the movie 10 Things I Hate About You.
I go through the motions of watching and fall in love with Heath Ledger all over again, to then spill some tears toward the end of the movie.
Curling up on the couch, I nestle underneath the covers and rest my head on the pillow as the tears continue to flow.
I hate it when you make me laugh
Even more so when you make me cry
I hate it when you're not around
And the fact that you didn't call
But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you
Not even close
Not even a little bit
Not even at all
With those words floating around in my head, I fall asleep with my tears still dried on my cheeks.
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When I awake, it's because of soft fingers running through my hair. The tears have stuck my lashes together, so when I try to blink my eyes open I struggle somewhat.
