Your relationship with Jill cannot be described as completely healthy. You spend time together, then you don't see each other for several months and lash out at each other in an attempt to catch up.

You or she don't always stay with each other after another meeting, running away either out of embarrassment or because of some cockroaches in your head. It would seem that it's time to do something about it, either to finally be together, or to forget all this and never remember.

You don't know if you have any meaning for Valentine, you don't understand if you have any place in her life. And all these reflections drive you into the abyss of uncertainty, the fear that one day she just won't come back and won't remember what happened between you. And that's what makes you write to her, call her, to let yourself know for at least a minute that she cares about you.

All this does not always end in success. Jill can afford to ignore you, and then justify herself by saying that she didn't have time or didn't answer at all, even later. Of course, this reflects on you, any of her indifference in your direction responds with resentment and tears. You want to talk, you want to find out, and she doesn't care. And it hurts.

The rain outside the window seemed to know about your unstable morale, which was caused by Valentine's rudeness towards you when you called her. She hurt you and left you alone with all this bitterness.

Red capillaries appeared on the eyeball, and the eyelids were red and swollen due to a dozen shed tears on this ground. Lying on the bed with a cuddle with a plush toy and a buzzing head, you tried to fall asleep, but, of course, nothing happened. So as soon as there was a knock on the door, you got up and headed out into the hallway.

When you opened the door and saw Jill on the threshold, irritation boiled up in you. "And I thought you'd already forgotten about me," you snorted when the girl crossed the threshold. "I was wrong, I'm sorry," her eyes caught on your tear—stained face.