“Who says that it’s better to have loved and lost?” I cried, heartbroken. I couldn’t beleive what I had heard. “I wish I had never loved at all.”

“Look, I’m sorry,” the boy said. “I’m only the messenger. I have to go.”

I would have done anything for him. I would have begged to for him to take me back right here on my doorstep.

But he was a coward. Couldn’t face me and tell me that it had all been a sham.

I slammed my fist into the wall. All those silences: I had seen the warning signs but continued to ignore them.

I flipped the glass table onto its back. He had been my first. My first kiss, my first love… I had loved him and he had thrown it back in my face.

I picked up a photo of us, the glass front smashed. We looked so happy. She was there too. Smiling beside me. My best friend.

Well that was it. The fairytale was over. I collapsed onto the cold floor, sobbing painful tears. Betrayed by my best friends. I grabbed a knife and held it to my skin, hoping the pain would stop.