The cold sheets matched my loneliness. Why did we even fight? I don’t remember. The fury makes your mind numb and my legs and arms are still shaking. It’s like a fog, it’ll clear up and I’ll remember. Thing is I’m not sure I’ll like what I see.

Sometimes I get so angry I black out. All that’s left is this toxic, swirling hate in my stomach. So hot I can feel it when I breathe. That’s exactly how I feel now. All I can do is curl up into a ball and hug myself.

Unfortunately though, that fog was beginning to clear.

“How could she?” Squeezes out from my tight lips.

It came back to me in a flash and all of that hatred starts bubbling up in my stomach. To hell with it all. Tears stream down my face and I find myself weeping. Weeping like a child. Hatred always turns to sorrow. I’ve never met a sad person who wasn’t angry in some shape or form. Usually it stems from hating one’s self but all I could think now was how could she? Was it my fault? Maybe. I’m not even sure anymore. Maybe the only way is to talk it out. Maybe we should. I’ll call her. No. She’s downstairs I’ll just head down there. That’ll be romantic my sweet Mary will love that.

I fling the now warm sheet off the bed and hop out, making my way towards the door. Blood. That isn’t right. I thought to myself. God kept appearing in my mind. I couldn’t. I’ll just sleep.

What did I do? Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I should forget all about it. I’m just being strange, like I always am. I need to relax and sleep it’ll all sort itself out in the morning.