That’s how it feels when you get hurt.
I’ve been in love precisely twice in my life. That’s it.
The kind I didn’t have to question. I just knew from the fizzle inside when we touched, the way I felt safe in their arms and how my hand disappeared in theirs until I couldn’t work out which was mine and which was theirs. It was, as they say, like magic.
Both times though I ended up feeling as if my heart had been ripped into a million pieces.
I shed so many tears I could have single-handedly filled up the water tables for the entire country.
My stomach was churned until it didn’t know whether it was coming or going.
But the worst part was not knowing what I had done.
Why I was so terrible?
It left me wondering what was wrong with me?
Am I that awful a person?
I don’t want to feel as if I am some big freak with something wrong with her.
I don’t want to be lonely.
All I want is a boy who will be my best friend and love me back, is that so wrong?