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"I think you should be asking yourself that. Tell me what you think you should do." Z asks me as we have lunch together on the first floor since they have a small Tim Hortons that recently opened up.
"I really don't know..."
"Think really hard." She winks and I roll my eyes. I constantly kept tapping my fingers, waiting for an idea to pop into my head.
"I should...tell him that I love him, right?"
"Okay. What else?"
"What else?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Well, no shit you love him, Robyn. Think deeper."
"Umm..."
"Robyn...you're worrying me..." She sips her coffee and I sigh.
"I mean, yes, I love him. I really do and I want him....I need him back-"
"Do you love the idea of him or do you love him, like, for who he is?"
"I love him for him obviously, the fuck? What kind of question is that?!" I hiss and she giggles softly.
"Just making sure..."
"I don't know what else to tell him. So if you think of something else, then please tell me."
"Robyn. Aren't you sorry for...something?"
"Sorry for what?? What did I do to you?"
"NOT ME DUMBASS! HIM!!!" She slams her hands on the table a bunch of times in anger.
"You gotta be trippin' for thinking I'm sorry for following my dreams-"
Then it hit me hard like a semi-truck. I put my hands over my mouth in disgust. I wasn't truly sorry for leaving him. Z shakes her head at me. I sigh in disbelief of myself.
"I should see a therapist..."
"Maybe." Z says calmly.
"I'm literally bipolar! One day I'm crying over this nigga and wishing I could start all over again with him, and another day I'm that bitch from New York that forgets who I used to be! UGH!!!" I groan.
