After dating for like, 7 months, you broke up with Natalie. Not because you did not like her anymore, but because dating a girl in the 90 is probably harder than denying that. At least it’s what you told yourself. But it wasn’t just a break up— no you had to maintain another level of break up.

You first started to tell yourself friend you dated her just for laughs. Then spread rumors, about her being a psychopath, a stalker, and all those kind of this. And well, since you were one of the most popular girl in school, and Nat was just another junkie, it was easy to choose a side.

Nevertheless, you knew she was actually the sweetest girl you ever met. It’s often she would open the door of her trailer and find you, standing with flowers and the most innocent smile. As if you didn’t called her crazy in front of your friends. And when you were playing the victim, crying and telling her you want her back? That would break her heart and she would stay to comfort you.

But it started to get too much. You went too far, and she started to get past that. You knew that. So you showed up at the parking lot in front of the soccer field, knowing she would finish her practice. And you weren’t wrong. She appeared, few feet behind the other girls—and you weren’t wrong, waiting for her outside your fancy car.

She spotted you. Does she look happy? Might be not. But she comes to you anyway, still wearing her uniform and her bag in her hand. “When will you stop coming to me?” She asks. She wasn’t frustrated but just tired, and probably hurt by all this.