Because last night I did something I don’t regret. I am loved eternally here by people who have only known me for three days. I am angry at you, yes, but I am also sad. Because I feel lost without your hand in mine. I feel uninterested in anything. We burned your photograph, lit it aflame til it turned to cinders. I threw the frame under my bed because I don’t want to think about love anymore. You were my entire world for awhile, but now my world has expanded beyond belief, and you are a fire in the back of my mind, a tiny spark that flares at the mention of anything I used to cherish. You give me migraines. You make me sick. I loved you, and you could not understand the enormity of that. But last night a boy kissed me and his lips were velvet.