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Sting

I felt as though a million bees had stung me, even worse. I couldn’t describe it, the feeling of hatred towards someone you used to think was the most wonderful person in the world. The feeling of knowing that all the tears and laughter you had shared with them were all fake. The feeling of being used and then thrown in the trash.

I walked around trying to let the anger out. I found a picture of us on my bedside table. I threw it on the ground with all the force I could muster and its glass frame shattered, just like my heart. I tore up all the photos of us from my album but I ended up bursting into tears. I remembered what fun we had and the love we had shared, which was now torn apart like the photos.

You were the one who was wrong, so how come I’m the one who’s ended up hurt?

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