An unbound story. Write the story with us.
It’s raining.
It’s raining, and he’s indoors, and it resembles a chick flick way too much because he’s sitting at a window seat watching the raindrops slide down the glass with Bon Iver playing softly from his speakers. How his life ever came to this, he doesn’t know.
He thinks it’s ridiculous that he has to take the blame for everything that happened. It’s injustice that he’s the one sitting at home while she’s out there doing God knows what. Doing God knows what, without him.
He thinks it’s true, but he doesn’t want to say it. He doesn’t want to say it because then it will really be true, and he doesn’t want it to be. He’s too proud for that. He was too proud for her.
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