Tonight had gone horribly wrong. I sighed. Maybe I shouldn't have stopped and asked her to dinner.
I just couldn't let it go- couldn't believe that she had been abused for six years. I felt so bad for even bringing up the topic. I just couldn't let it go, and I feel incredibly stupid. I sighed again, thinking I might be able to make it up to her tomorrow.
I closed my eyes and flopped, face first, onto the bed as I realized the impossibility of that ever happening. There was a slim-to-none chance of that happening, and Slim just left.
I thought, not for the first time, of the smile I got so easily out of her, of how she talked to me after everyone had said that she wouldn't talk to anyone. And I wondered why she pushed everyone away- why she was so guarded.
There had to some other reason behind the lonely solitude; it couldn't be just because she didn't like to socialize. The way she behaved tonight was proof of that; I could see that she craved the attention, someone to talk to finally. I was evident in the way her eyes were hungry for more. She had been enjoying the evening right up until I messed it all up.
I let sleep claim me eventually. After I was done mentally kicking myself, that is.
When I woke the next morning, I could hear the sound of rain pittering and pattering on the cold pavement outside, the sound of the cars driving by on the slick wet of the road. I forced myself to get out of bed and get some clothes on... By that, I do of course mean I just shifted. It was easier than packing up a suitcase of clothes when you're always on the go, and also never knowing if you would be able to grab it when you left.