For weeks after I had never felt so alone. I had people all around me but I just felt so lonely. I had to carry on like nothing had happened and it was harder than I ever imagined. I can't say I didn't feel guilty but I couldn't help loosing myself to anger and frustration. When he left I was happier in some ways but I missed seeing him around. I missed seeing his perfectly placed hair and confident, beautiful, trusting, gentle eyes, but most of all I missed having, well, my role model around to guide me. At least I couldn't hurt him anymore. At least I couldn't feel the stabbing pain when I saw him in the corridor, nor the surge of mad butterflies sickening my stomach, tinged with a little regret but mostly jealousy. Only a dull ache now proved to me how I felt about him, only a small but gaping hole suggested that I had lost something special.
Whenever someone brought him up or mentioned his name, I always flinched. Even just his name brought a weight upon me. Emotions I couldn't control pierced through me. Guilt. Regret. Sadness. And I think they can sense it. But I had to continue with my life like nothing ever happened. This hurt more than ever.
I am tired of being the face of the school. I am fed up of having to be popular and act tough, but most of all, I am fed up that my popularity is getting in the way of who I am. Great, I've gone all soft, but my father is right, I've changed and this is not who I am.