You don't have mail.mature
Everytime I signed into messenger it taunted me. It didn't have a name, just a draft email that I hadn't yet sent. I knew every word it said, every sentence laced with betrayal, confusion, anger, heart-ache. Reluctantly, like I did most days I double clicked on it and read it over and over, once again embracing the same feeling that it always had on me. I felt tears stinging the back of eyes and exited the email. It still confused me that all this had happened, and it wasn't as if I wanted it to happen. I shook my head violently as a way to stop the conveyor belt of questions from starting in my mind. I quickly read all my new emails, each one inconsequential and meaningless. I sighed and opened instant messenger.
There was 56 people online. 56 friends that I knew would be all too happy to talk to me, apart from one. The one who hid cowardly at the bottom corner at the far right of the laptop screen. I scrutinised his name hoping that my evil glare would penetrate through the screen and strike him dead. His name made my heart leap, his display picture with the welcoming ding whenever he signed in made me start almost everytime. At the beginning he would immediately begin talking to me, but now...not so much. I was lucky if I was to get a hi in the street never mind online. Again I felt tears threatening to spill over, but I closed my eyes tight to quell the flow. When I opened them his name was still there, his status 'idle'. I snorted, my ass he was 'idle'. I wasn't naive, I knew he was avoiding me. Why did it all have to change? Why?
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