The words hurt. They hurt like hell. Once those words escaped his lips I immediately wanted him out of my house. I wasn't mad at him, I wasn't mad at Christine, I was mad at myself.
He hugged me, I hugged back, each second felt like years. My heart thumped against my chest and I felt a slight burn in my throat and it suddenly became hard to breath properly.
This felt stupid. He's never seen me cry from actual sadness. The only times he's seen me cry is during stupid movies, or when I'm crying from laughter. If I cry then he'll cry, and if he cries then I'll start crying harder. Also, if I start cry I'll actually have to make up an excuse why I'm crying.
I knew I never stood the chance, it's just, I guess I had a little bit of hope, you know? I knew my crush was hopeless. I knew I wasn't good enough. I knew I'm a pain to the world. I knew I'm disgusting. I knew I'm a loser. I knew I should've ended my life while I had the chance. I mean,
I still do
I feel tears going down my face.
I felt more
Don't be weak
Great, I'm sobbing now.
He looks up at me, confused and worried. I tried to wipe my tears, but they were only replaced by new ones. He took my glasses and moved them out of the way. I couldn't breath at this point. I'm honest shocked my moms can't hear me, they're probably sleeping.
I looked at him. His lip was quivering and his big blue eyes were glossy.
"Michael? What did I do?" He choked out, his voice cracking. That felt like a stab to my heart. It made me feel awful that the first thing he thought when I started crying was that he did something wrong. He didn't do anything wrong. He did something right. I looked down in shame.
"I'm sorry," I try my best to calm down, hiccuping every once and a while. I look back up at him. Tears are streaming down his face, which makes me want to break down crying again. But I won't, I have to stay strong for him.
"Can we forget that happened?" I try my best to let out a breathless laugh. I grab my glasses and put them on, wipes my eyes one last time. I wipe Jeremy's tears too.
"Why did you start crying?" He whispered, looking down. I freeze, not sure what to say. I try to think of something,
"It's just, I don't know, I'm happy for you, I really am, I guess I just feel like a bad friend?" I say it like a question.
"Why would you be a bad friend?" He looks at me, confused. I shake my head,
"I don't know, I guess I just know how much anxiety you get when you talk to her and I think maybe I should've helped you? I'm sorry, I feel worthless," I make up.
"Michael, you're an amazing friend, and it's okay you didn't help me, what matters is that she said yes, right?" He smiled. I force a painful grin on my face and push out the words,
A/N: debating to end it there or add like, one more chapter