Inspired by Paramore's Lovesick Melody. It was playing when I wrote this *shrug* Post Beat The Devil.
My excuse of having to work won't have satisfied him.
I know it. And I hate the way I anticipate his inevitable visit to my house sometime tonight.
Helen's words echoe through my head, but apparently my heart's gone deaf. It flutters just at the thought of Cal.
I know that Helen's right. That if I keep going the way I have been I will forever be marked a casualty of war, of Cal.
And I will be standing all alone in the cold along with every one of his one night stands. Every result of his drunken nights.
My mind refuses to be a statistic, but my heart wants nothing more, than to be a casualty of his war.