He wasn't there. I can only surmise that it is entirely my fault. Although there is a myriad of possible reasons, I know that the fault is mine, and the the blame is mine to carry. The timbre of my voice must have been too harsh for someone with a voice of melted honey. The disgraceful way that I tripped in front of him must have offended him- the clumsy are scrupulous. I feel absolutely dolorous- I find myself longing for the tall, proud cacti, vast, sprawling desert and cloudless blue sky of home. The scenic gray-and-green landscape of Forks, Washington holds nothing for me but dreadful amounts of shame.
I feel like a child. Someone snatched away the shiny object I so love- despite knowing nothing of- and I want it back. I must have it back. So I'm subconsciously throwing a fit.
I've managed to give myself dyslexia by riding the ten-speed I got for Christmas a few years ago and crashing, head-first, into as many trees as possible. But it wasn't really necessary. Stubbornly, the words began blurring themselves.
Charlie is positively jovial I'm here. I'm not.
I knew there was a reason I came here, and that reason is Edward. I'm sure of it.