Blog Of Love

I was sort of dating this boy. Sort of. He stopped texting me abruptly. He stopped looking at me. He stopped being with me. He wouldn't return my glances, my smiles, and he recoiled when personal contact was imminent.
I was confused. He was in love with me.

I was the reason why we weren't properly together, and even I had forgotten why.

He stopped everything. Then, my birthday came. And he, the bastard, he turned up!

Afterwards, I got a little drunk, I asked him why. Basically, after a while, he broke up with me, officially.

He said I wasn't memorable. That he stopped caring about me. That he was glad it was over.

I don't want to be a stupid little girl, but I'm hurting inside.