Leaving You [Frerard]

If You Could Get Me A Drink

June 4th - 13 Days Left

I saw him today. He was crying. I didn't talk to him, I just sat in the window box, a coward. Too afraid to confront him. Afraid to explain myself.
And I was so sorry - not that he knew. He thought I was a traitor - which I was. I was despicable.

Of course, it wasn't my decision to leave. Nothing ever really was. I had no choice.

And I hated that I's gotten myself in this mess. And there was one thing that made me forget about it all.

I got up out of my seat, where I had been for the last few days. My legs screamed with joy and ache as I stretched them. Knowing my parents were avoiding me and were probably out, I knew that they wouldn't give a damn what I did. So I found my mother's whiskey stash, and took it to my room.

And then, I couldn't really remember from there.