I was hurt. I couldn’t not be, I kept thinking of the way she’d stared at me terrified before running away. I hadn’t thought she would run from me. I never thought she could look so afraid of me.
I stared at the half empty bottle of vodka, blue from the smurfs that had been put in it for a small party a few days ago. I almost considered swapping it with the small Nutella pot in my hands.
“So that’s how it starts” I thought. I was always understanding new things about people, whether it be a general “people” or one person in particular. But whenever it mattered most I was left clueless about what to do and it was so frustrating.
And I had no reason to feel bad, it was just a mix of empathy and hurt. I shouldn’t have been the one that was hurt and I hated myself for feeling that way, but without speaking she had made me turn around and cry. Hurting her was the last thing I ever wanted to do, and yet it’s what I did. Without meaning it I had hurt the person who meant the most to me. And I had no right to be hurt.
The blobby smurf remains were beckoning… “Don’t you want to know how blue we taste?” They said. As for the rest… I can’t remember.