I talked to him today, just on MSN.

He logged on, and I was so surprised that I messaged him. I thought he was going to stay with his father for a while.

The conversation was short and vague and made me cry all over again.

I'd just gotten myself together enough to finish the letter, and package up his Christmas present. That included digging out the old love letter he wrote me months ago to get his dad's address from. I even dared to open the letter again, to remind myself of happier days.

I could only stand to read a few lines before I had to put it back.

And then he logs on and I had to talk to him.

Damn you, Paul. Damn you for stealing my heart.

I was making dinner before I talked to him. The moment I pressed enter on the first message I knew I wouldn't be able to stomach food, and put away my ingredients.

I'd hoped...hoped he'd say something to let me keep hoping...

But nothing. Nothing either way.

Why do I have to care?

Fuck it. I hate falling in love.

No, I love falling in love. It's the aftermath that I hate.

I shouldn't waste my tears on him, but a tiny part of me knows he's worth every one.

Fuck it. Fuck him.

Never again.

.

Rosie.

Before&After