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Georgia's POV

Not talking to him I discovered to be really difficult. I just missed him.

But I'm not allowed to miss him in this way. We were friends.

I wish we were more, maybe it would make me feel better when I thought about him as much as I did.

I missed the way we looked at each other and the way we would pretend our hands didn't brush each other.

But I am not allowed to miss him in this way.

How can I miss someone that was always just a friend.

He was never mine to begin with.

I don't know why I ever thought he was. He had no obligation to be loyal to me. After all, we were just friends.

Pat had nothing to feel guilty about. He had no ties to me in any way other than a strictly platonic relationship.

On the outside, that's what it was. In my head of course, it was so much more.

That was the only thing making me doubt the 'truths' that I was being told.

It's not what he said that lead to my outpour of emotions. It's how he said it.

He was so quick to make sure I wasn't jumping to conclusions. Defending himself over absolutely nothing.

Why did he look so guilty? Why did such a minor situation get blown up so big. Was there more to the story that I hadn't heard?

The more I thought about it, the more confused I became. Looking back on that night, I did feel a bit embarrassed.

Leaving their house after that conversation with Pat, I did let my emotions get the better of me. The sensitivity towards the situation shone through.

Once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. The drive home was interrupted by my pathetic tears. In the end, I was sick of feeling sorry for myself.

I didn't have a legitimate reason to be feeling the way I was. I brought it all upon myself. I was the one who pushed him into putting himself out there again.

If only there were things you could take back in life. This would be one of them. Probably a mistake I would eventually take to the grave.

When I got home that night I went straight to bed to prevent any rash decisions from being made. Then that very next day, I packed up a bag and drove to my parents house. A secluded suburban home away from the big city lights.

I had spent the past few nights there, trying to take my own time to think, but also to pick myself back up after the chaos that went down on that night.

I just needed space, and time. Both were hard to come by.

I knew, being at my own house, that he would find me. He would come and try to talk to me and it would be uncomfortable.

That one conversation had already burned through months of progress between us.

All of the periods of laughing and carefree banter that we had just gotten back to, it was already gone. Just like that.

What would I say to him now?

I pretty much gave him the green light to go and date someone else. What was I thinking?

Always You || Patrick CrippsWhere stories live. Discover now