*Amelia*
I curl up in my bed, my face swollen and red from crying almost non-stop for two days.
I clutch Cory’s T-shirt to my chest, and no matter what I choose to do, I know I will most likely never see him again. It hurts so much that I almost wish I could just die.
I see no other possibilities. I can’t drag him down with me; I can’t let my mistake ruin his career, and I can’t bear the thought of him being disappointed in me. He deserves better.
My chest feels like a raw, bleeding wound, and it’s as if I can’t breathe properly… like there isn’t enough oxygen in the air.
I don’t have any more tears left, but occasionally my body contracts in dry, rasping sobs that hurt my head and my chest.
I’ve turned off my phone since I boarded the plane. It’s easier this way. I can’t handle
