August who the fuck cares
Who Cares
Ryan explained the fundamental difference between boys and girls to me today. And I'm not talking about penises. For once.
But seriously, I'm not in the mood for jokes. That one just happened to be so easy that I had no other choice.
Boys don't show it when they're upset. They don't cry. They don't mope. They don't sit around and stare at the wall and worry. They shelve it away. They go on.
And what does this translate as to me? "I can live without you. Because I got through yesterday just fine without you. Because I wasn't worried. Because I could carry on normally regardless of that fact that I now knew that I had ripped out your heart and stomped on it."
He asked me if I believed him now. I said I believed him the moment he walked away yesterday. But it doesn't matter. Because he was just fine yesterday anyway. I was the only one that wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for the next week. I was the only one that felt their lungs caving in and their heart severing itself from it's life giving blood. I was the only one that cried themselves to sleep. I was the only one that woke up this morning worried. I was the only one that didn't bother to pretend everything was allright today.
Because, it seems, everything was.
astera at see above