I look up, my eyes shining in the moonlight.

"So, that's it, huh?" I sigh. I feel strangely empty at this moment, one where I feel like I should be crying or screaming or ... doing something. It's like I can't even move anymore.

"Yeah," she nodded, not looking at me. "That's it."

"You left me, alone, while I was depressed and really needed you because you had a CRUSH on her?" I asked coldly. "I see ..."

"This wasn't how it was supposed to be," she started crying.

"It's not supposed to be anything," I said, walking away.

We used to go outside, smoking and star watching together, trying to find the beauty among so much pain. It felt like she and the stars were my only consistant friends.

Now, pain and disappointment have taken over even that. I always knew, deep down, that the stars hated me.

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