It's Happened...

I've become one of those people.

You know the ones I'm talking about, the kind of person who becomes so hysteric that she practically shouts over the person trying to comfort her. That was me. Just earlier. Crying and yelling over the phone while my lungs struggled for air in short, loud, shallow breaths. That was me. Cutting off my parents with shouts of "There's nothing I can do!" and "I don't understand what he meant!" as they tried consoling me.

I deleted the message. The harsh bluntness with which you wrote couldn't possibly have been what you wanted to convey. I deleted it almost immediately. Read it once, twice, three times total and deleted it. It would've been hard to remember what you said last night if I kept that message with me. It's the ending note that lingers at the end of a performance. That's the one stuck in people's heads as they exit the hall. I want to try erasing it just enough so I understand there's nothing I can do to change it while at the same time remembering your hope, your kindness.

This is it, I guess.

It's really over.