I sit here at my desk asking myself why I can’t focus. I mean it’s history my subject. The subject I get. the subject I love. Why am I doodling this broken heart? It wasn’t that big of deal anyway, right? Then if it wasn’t why do I feel this way. So out of touch with everything?

Come on snap out of it. Let’s go, get over it.

Not that easy.

He’s my best friend. I should be happy for him, right? How could he even know what he is doing hurts me. Crushing on her. Telling me about her every second of everyday.

Now, he finds that it’s easier to be her friend too. So he’s talking to me less and less. Ugh, I’m so confused and I’m not even sure if I should be.