C͟h͟a͟s͟e͟
I finally pry myself from the diving board and unsteadily creep across it until my feet hit concrete.
There's a shard of brown glass by my foot.
Yeah, I need to call someone for that. I look at it glistening in the sun, tempted to pick it up and punish myself but the thought is fleeting. I chuckle at what Janice would probably say if I even tried.
She'd never let me hear the end of it. I don't need to bring more of her wrath down upon me.
And it would be selfish and cowardly to do it. I need to man up and face the consequences of my actions instead of running like a little b***h. If that means accepting that every option for happiness is gone, so be it.
I need my phone. I pat my pockets, not finding it. I stand at the door to the house, staring in. I carried her here
