cheated

I woke up too early, unwanted knowledge crawling over me like a handful of millipedes. I feel ill. All morning my heart has been racing, my skin flushed rosy red; but there is a cold, slimy feeling in the pit of my stomach; I imagine it full of languid black slugs.

I don't know why, but I really thought it could be different this time. I don't know why you think the only way to end things is by making me cry. But maybe you're right.

I really hate it when you're right.