You're a psycho.
The words echoed through my mind over and over again, growing in volume and intensity. I saw the look on his face whenever I closed my eyes, a picture burned into the inside of my eyelids. Disgust. He was disgusted with me. I couldn't blame him, I was disgusted with myself.
He was completely right, who did I think I was fooling? Because I definitely wasn't fooling myself, and our conversation made it plainly obvious that I wasn't fooling him.
And Maya. What about her? Was she fooled? Did she believe that I was actually the guy who smiled in photo booths, who sang karaoke, who left cheesy video messages on cellphones? Had I fooled her?
If you cared about her at all you would get out of her life now.
I'd broken up with her, I'd sent the text message. It was vague, it had to be because I didn't want to lie to her, I couldn't lie to her, and as hard as it was for me to send the message, to cut ties with one of the only person in the world that made me feel like I might be okay, I had to. Breaking up with Maya was like sealing my fate, it made what I was about to do a whole lot easier. I could trick myself into believing that I had absolutely nothing left to live for, and finally end all the unexplainable pain I lived in each and every day.
