I was in my room, pacing back and forth and back and forth, striding my way from the bed to the window like a continuous marching band.
I had gone crazy. I was being a lunatic, and I pray to God I hope I wouldn't end up in an asylum full of mentally disturbed people.
Maybe they were in love too.
No. No no no no no.
I placed a sweating palm on my forehead, my arms on the desk.
"I'm not writing this. I can't be."
But I did.
I held my pen a little too tightly, and my hand followed.
Dear Neil . . .
YOU ARE READING
Dalliance: Part II
Short StoryThis is not another heartbreak. This is not me crying over a guy who shattered me apart. This is me crying over a guy who I shattered myself. This is me crying over regrets, undecided choices, and the most nonsensical reasons for being apart from hi...
