So, basically it had all been a lie. She knew that now. People thought she was in denial or something, but she wasn't. Not by this point, when it was painfully clear he wasn't going to come back to her with explanations and apologies and those eyes that said, Hey, you know I would never, ever lie to you.
Lying eyes. She knew that.
Well, it seemed like everyone wanted to say, why won't you just hurry up and get over him? He wasn't worth a single tear, right?
Yeah. He lied. He manipulated. He made her feel good after first making her feel bad. She could see it all. She couldn't stand to watch the videos again, but she remembered it well enough. Too well. She could see the real George plain and clear. And it wasn't like she was going to run after him and beg him to come back. The real George could go to hell.
Thing was, that wasn't her George. Her George was sweet, so sweet he wasn't afraid to be corny. He said nice things about her like it would never occur to him that anyone could think otherwise. Her George would get this fierce, protective indignation at the idea that anyone would think less of her. Her George let her become so comfortable in her own skin that all the fake layers fell away and there she was, just Lydia, and it was enough.
Yeah. She knew. Her George was only in her head. And maybe he was only there because she let him be, and maybe she wouldn't have let him in to begin with if she hadn't already made room there thanks to her fight with Lizzie and all the festering anger and spite and self-hate…Only in her head. But why should that make her feelings any less real?
She didn't feel like she'd been dumped. She felt like he had died.
And no one was letting her grieve.