“what cha doing?”
“playing soccer”
“can i hang out in here?”
“don’t touch anything!”
“you took down his pictures?”
“i think i would of done that sooner – like boom! don’t want to see that face again”
“wasn’t like that, i was never angry with him .. okay thats a lie. It’s not like i didnt want to see his face”
“i was just starting to kinda like the guy and then .. gone so fast”
“it wasn’t really so fast him leaving, according to everyone who wasn’t me .. it was kinda gradual”
“Oh, does that make it any better?”
“because you should of noticed earlier?”
“stop being insightful, it’s creepy. it hurts in all kinds of horrible ways. In the way i’m furious at him and the way i blame myself and all the little things i could imagine i could of fixed things”
“it’ll get better though, wont it?”
“i hope so, yeah – it has too”

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