TRISTAN’S POINT OF VIEW
I woke up with the familiar headache and the excruciating heartache that for ten years only increases.
“Hey, T., are you ok?” Jade asks with a smile on her face while sitting on the end of the sofa, and I shake my head as in no but regret it as soon as I do because my brain feels like it’s stabbed with each shake.
“Do I look ok?” I ask rhetorically while trying to sit up, and hardly succeeding.
“Well, you look like s**t, but... don’t you remember anything?”
“Oh, God, Jade... your honesty is...” I trail off trying but failing to find the right words, and she chuckles.
I love her, I don't know what I would have done without her all these years, but sometimes... sometimes...
“I know, I know, I’m special. But enough about the awesome moi, well, not enough because
