#Chapter87
Loving someone is not a reason to treat you shittily. You deserve answers from him. I’m battling myself, fighting my own thoughts and yet the overwhelming aching pain is taking control. Alcohol fuelled stupidness and I cannot seem to stop myself, dragging myself onto my feet as I sway around crazily, mentally yelling NO while my body aims for the bedroom with a set mind to finding my phone, with tears dripping off my nose.
I want to hear him say it in his own words. Why I’m not good enough? Why he doesn’t trust me? Why I’m good enough to fuck and yet so easy to discard? I cannot seem to apply the logical ranting refusals to the parts of me which are in control and looking for where I left it, tripping over my own feet as I search the bed and bedside cabinet.
