I sit look at my books. They're boring. I'm not even paying attention to them. Instead, my eyes are on you.

You're 4 tables away, deep in conversation with another man. You tenderly touch each others hands, mumbling under your breath. A giggle occasionally escapes your lips, and each time it does, the knot in my stomach tightens and squeezes, threatening to rip my insides to shreds. I never thought this weight would be so unbearable.

You turn your head, as if knowing you were being watched, and our eyes meet. You falter, your smile fades, and even from this distance, I can see the sadness in your eyes, measured with a steely resolve. You turn away from me and my heart sinks.

I'm happy for you, even if I don't understand how it went so wrong. We had everything ahead of us, the world at our oyster, love at our backs. At least, that's what I'd hoped it was. All it took was a change of heart to sully our relationship. Now, you can't even look at me. You won't even talk to me. I'd do anything just to have you say my name.

You stand and move across the room, passing by me with your new fling at your side. Neither of you even look in my direction and I press my head against the book in front of me, desperate not to make a scene. I can't stand the thought of you not here. Every fiber of my being screams at me to turn and run to you, to call you over. My very soul screams in anguish at the thought of you not by my side. My eyes burn and I brush the tears away. No. I can't. Maybe if I don't cry, I won't feel anymore. Maybe I won't feel this heart-wrenching agony.





Prom. I can't stand the thought of dancing. I was never very good to begin with, but you always coaxed me into it. Why am I even here? Part of me is still holding out hope you might change your mind. Another part of me is attempting to guide me along. 'We'll make it through', that part of me says. The other half scoffs. Through? There doesn't seem to be an end to this pain. What path, if anything, am I walking? Every step just feels like the last.

I raise my head and wish I hadn't. I see you across the room with him. You dance and sway to a slow song as the dim lights overhead glitter and sparkle, illuminating the floor in specks of gold. You look so beautiful. I smile. I'm happy for you.

No. I'm not. I'm angry, sad and hurt. The rage inside of me wells up as my mind relives the memory again. The argument. The crying. The way you walked out the door. I don't think I can take this.

I need to be cold, to numb myself. How else am I to get through this pain, with you always in my life, always in view? I stagger across the bleachers to the door, step out into the cold night air. The wind brushes through my fur. It's nice...breezy. Chilly.

I walk. I don't know where I'm going, but it's somewhere that's not here. The chill wind sets into my bones. My mind wanders as my body picks the path. I don't know how long I've been walking for. 5 minutes? 10? An hour? It doesn't matter. This is what I need: the cold.

It's dark now. The moon overhead illuminates my path, but the road is unfamiliar. I don't know where I am. In the middle of the countryside, so it seems, but that's normal-- I live in a small town, not a big city. Regardless, this place is unfamiliar. Maybe I'll rest for now, and wait until the sun rises.

I sit down by a tree, resting under the shade and looking up at the sky. My teeth chatter. It's chilly. Cold.

Cold...

Cold...