“He’s in love with you.”

“Who’s in love with me?”

“You know.”

“He’s not in love with me. He’s in love with the idea of me. He’s in love with another girl; one who’s only mildly broken. I’m not her.

I was broken into a million little pieces.

Sure, I’ve repaired myself, and you helped with that; but I’m filled with jagged edges. There are even a few missing places, and some that don’t fit quite right.

I’ll never be the girl he’s in love with again.”

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.