I stared at the photo. It had been posted just a few hours ago, when I had been too busy doing homework to be checking my social media.
There he was, I thought, smiling as if he had no care in the world, arm around another girl.
I knew that this would happen sooner or later. It was him. He practically thrived on women.
So why does it hurt so damn much?
I tossed my phone, not wanting to listen to the Mariah Carey song that was playing on Pandora anymore. I tried taking deep breaths but it didn't calm me down; it made me feel worse, as if trying was hopeless. I felt my body beginning to shake, shutting down.
This was what I wanted, wasn't it? Him being happy should mean that I'm happy too, right?
Wrong.
Because that only worked out for both parties if I was the one that was making him happy. Him smile. Him laugh. But I wasn't.
It was her.
And that hurt.
I laid myself on the floor and cried into the carpet. This new room had already seen so many tears; when I first moved in, when I started at the new school, when the conversations stopped.
"You don't need him, Megan." I whispered, staring at the pale blue wall. "You're an independent woman."
But doesn't it feel better to have a man by your side?
I sat up, shaking my head to clear my consciousness. "But I don't have to have one. I've been alone before. I was doing just fine without him."
I wiped away the tears that had managed to hold on and stood up to look at my reflection in the oval mirror on the wall. My eyes were red shot and my face flushed. I ran a hand through my dark mane.
"You don't need him," I said seriously, looking deep into the pits of my brown eyes. "He's irrelevant; he has been ever since he read your message and never replied back." I had only wished him good luck for a band festival he had that day and iMessage said that he had looked at it.
"It's seriously time to stop crying. He's over you- you need to do the same." I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. "This whole situation sucks, yes- but you need to make the most of it." I watched my reflection nod. "Honestly, you're in high school; that basically guarantees new people to spend your time on. No more of this crying stuff, alright?"
No more.
The words hit me hard, signaling the beginning to a new end. I was human; I knew that in this early stage, I was probably going to have a relapse and fall right back to where I was: square one. But I couldn't not try.
I couldn't not attempt to regain control of my life.
