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Now you're probably wondering. Where's Dalton or are you guys even friends still.

Well the answer is no. Yes and No, but mostly no. And the reason is because two years after we graduated from high school and went to college, He specifically said 'We can't be friends and I hate you because I love you, You make me sick and I can't think when I'm around you'

I'm speechless. For words actually. I didn't cry I just said "okay" and went about my business. That probably made him confused because I used to cry and beg people to stay but not anymore.

If you want to walk out and leave my life, then you should, it may hurt like hell later but I'll get over it. The biggest mistake, I actually hate myself for is that, I got a tattoo of his nickname. I removed it and got about three to twenty tattoos. They're all small and a good size.

I didn't care at the moment. I moved out my parents house after I graduated. They made a big fuss about it saying stuff like, 'you'll be back'

Ma'am sorry to burst your bubble but I can't stay in house where the parents fight hours and hours, don't come until two weeks later arguing and saying hateful things.

I didn't have much friends in the area, I just left. The reason why I don't have many friends because when they're in my personal space, like touching or trying to give me a hug, I would simply say "Don't touch me"

And I think it's that way because growing up, I didn't get that love and affection thing from my peers, I didn't bother me. I would rather die single and unbothered then put up with people and their happy lives.

I can't believe I'm twenty-three years old. I don't look that age, Most people would say, "you look so young" I would just laugh and think to myself, why?

I think It would be dangerous for me to meet a male version of me. If you ever came up to us, I think you would get 'I hate everyone' vibes from us. Or even, If you're talking you would get ignored and get 'I don't care' looks and stares.

I graduated college early due to my amazing education of learning. My parents would pay teachers extra money to give me extra and hard work, just to pass.

I am here now living in new york. Not actually, but I live in this cool area with cool houses. Each house has a pool, pretty cool if you ask me.

Since I work as a lawyer, it's really easy coming from home and just getting a tub of ice cream, sitting on the couch watching movies that make you piss your pants.

'If anything happens I love you' I read out on the screen. I wanted to watch it, but It felt like I was being in those movies where, I'm the character and I get the random phone call during the movie about the person I don't want to see.

I clicked on it anyways and began watching.

Twelve Minutes isn't bad.



DATE: January 21

There is no way parents could fight about a child staying with who for hours. I love my mom and dad but they've hurt me in so many ways, it's unbelievable.

I decided to call Dalton, even though he's been acting really distant lately. When our parents fight, we sneak out and go to the park.

Just to clear our mind. "Can you pick me up?" I asked over the phone trying to distance out the noise from my parents.

Dalton on the other line said 'okay' and hung up. I got dressed and put on some sweats with a black hoodie leaving my hair how it is.

Minutes later he came and threw a rock on my window, it didn't break though. I sighed and climbed out carefully.

"What are they fighting about?" He asked shoving his hands in his pockets since it was cold out.

I shrugged.

I knew what they were fighting about but this fight was different. Different from the others, and he could tell. But he didn't pressure me.

We got to the park and Dalton just walked around while I was fiddling with my fingers pinching my hands.

Dalton grabbed my hand and we both laid on the cold grass. It was amazing, the sky was beaming of stars while the cold breeze was making us feel like we weren't home.

This was our escape but I didn't know how long.

I had a feeling Dalton hated me. He thinks my life is all sunshine and glitter when it isn't. He with me everyday most of the time.

I hate talking about these things. I call my feelings 'things' because I rather call it that then break down and feel annoying talking about it

You never know what happens behind closed doors.

"You know, you don't have to hate me. My life isn't all filled with happiness and butterflies. Your parents got a divorced and their both happy". I stared him in the eyes. I wanted to make sure he knew what I was saying. "You can't hate me, It's supposed to be the other way around" I told him.

He looked me in the face and wanted to say something. I could tell he wanted to because after I said what I said, he didn't stop staring at my hands for two minutes.


He tilted his head and sat up against the small tree that was half way cut. "Your hands are red and you won't stop pinching at them" He then grabbed my hand and opened it.

I tried pulling away but he gripped his hand so I wouldn't move. He looked up at me and I tried reading him like a profiler.

"Why are your hands so bruised up?" He asked rubbing circles around it.

I shrugged again. I knew the answer

But he already hates me, why not?

"When I get scared around people, like coming near me or me accidentally flinching when someone is trying to get something, I pinch my hands until they're red" I explained shrugging again and pulling my hands away from his. "I tend to do that, when I zoned out"

He muttered something underneath his breathe but I didn't know what It was.

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