End of summer (Precollege)

"What happened, Bradford, is that I already let you break my heart once."
Then she stood up, adjusted her dress, and walked out of the room.

I didn't call her name.
I didn't stop her.
I didn't follow her.
I just sat there, in a dark room, feeling sorry for myself.

Because as much as I tried to convince myself over the last year or so, that she didn't care-or that she wouldn't care-in just a few words she proved me completely wrong.

She felt it too.

She felt everything I did.