You Let Go

Juliet couldn't ever let go of Blake. But he let go of her. It's not her fault she gets all quirky when she's drunk.
But when Blake leaves her, is it for his good, or hers?

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2. Twitter

 

My car was parked half a block away. I just walked down the block sobbing like a little girl who just fell of her bike.

It was just a stupid party Blake.

That’s all I could think.  Jake kept on giving me shots, I couldn’t help but get a little drunk. I’m not going to lie at all. When I’m drunk, I turn into a little slut. Yes I am ashamed of it, but being drunk takes over me. It’s not that easy for me. I’m a person who gets addicted to easily.

I opened the door to my blue Chevy and slammed the door. I threw my bag into the back seats and started the engine. I rested my head into the steering wheel and cried a little. After a few minutes of overlooking the situation that just occurred, I wiped off my messy make-up and began to drive down the block. When I passed his house, I saw him look out the window and turn around at the sight of my car. I could tell he had been crying too. Which is not good.  Blake never cries. And I mean, never. He only cries when he is really hurt.

I couldn’t help but break through the door of my house and fall to the floor with my head between my knees. I really hurt Blake. Which is the last thing I would ever want to do to him.      He’s such a nice person, so forgiving, never raises his voice. He was always such a romantic. He’d take me on walks through the park, take me out on a fancy dinner, and let me win our matches on his Xbox 360 games.

I always was a fan of cheesy romantic guys like that. But Blake was so handsome and nice, I almost died when he asked me out on our first date.

The more I thought of our time together I cried more and more. I unlocked my phone and looked at the time.

7:30. Shit.

My parents would be home in an hour.

 I slugged along to my room, dragging my bag along the mahogany floor.  Opening the door to my room was probably one of the worst parts of my day. All around my room were taped pictures to the wall of Blake and me on our dates. Pictures in the photo booth at the mall, and even pictures from our homecoming and prom dances.

I took a shower, and put on some gray sweatpants and a orange tank top. I put my hair into a messy bun, and applied a little make-up, so my parents wouldn’t see how much crying I’d done. 

I went downstairs back into the kitchen and heated myself some left-over ravioli in the microwave. I took my heated meal and took a seat at the small island we had. Grabbing the remote I turned on the T.V. and turned on MTV. I watched Snooki & Jwoww on their crazy new show. It lightened my mood again on how awkward yet hilarious they could be.

At around 8:45 my parents walked right through the door. I was on the couch scrolling through Twitter observing Blake’s new tweets. None of them seemed to be about me. When I was about to shut off my laptop a new tweet popped up.

Finally finished her off! I’m a free man now!

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