*bursts into flames* [NoJoMo #4]

I can’t take it anymore.
The way he looked at me today was absolutely dreadful. He sauntered in three minutes late, plopped down dejectedly into his chair, and proceeded to glare at his desktop for the next half hour. Every glance shot towards me was horrible, too. If looks could kill, I’d be at the bottom of a three-hundred story building with glass sticking out of my spine. Go figure. I’m a horrible person.
I spent the first half of the break-up conversation last night beating around the bush. He told me that I was the first person in quite some time to make him feel like his feelings mattered. That struck a chord in my heart, and it hasn’t stopped thrumming since. It was awkward; for the first time in two months, I walked out of my second period classroom with no one’s arm around me, no one’s warm hand clutching mine, and no one to smile at and joke around with. I walked right past the spot where we’d usually stop, where he’d give me a kiss, a hug, smile at me, and tell me to have a great day.
The second half of the conversation, I laid it out straight: he caught me off the rebound, and I thought I was ready for a relationship, but I wasn’t. I felt like I wasn’t treating him right. I was very confused and needed time to think things over, to clean up my act, to sort through all of my own shit. I explained how, for the first time EVER, I felt like I belonged. With his friends, goofing off, smoking, beating the crap out of each other, racing down the street, making sexual innuendos. I told him I’d understand if he didn’t want to see me or talk to me anymore. His voice broke at the end, and something in me snapped. Something inside me, the whole time, was screaming at me to NOT do this, telling me that I was doing everything wrong, that I shouldn’t break up with him. I did it anyway, because I thought it was the right thing to do. It IS the right thing to do, damnit!
And now, in retrospect, I laugh morbidly at myself. I was such a fucking idiot. He’d never done anything wrong to me, only made my life better. He gave me a reason to smile, and laugh, to get up every day and go to school. He made every day great, or at least as damn close as possible. He was my sunshine, more so than anyone else that I’ve ever met, but I chose this past weekend to fuck that all up. I did SO well, and then, what do you know. I fucked it all up. I fucked up something that could’ve been great. I got a little greedy, a little selfish, and now I get to pay for it. Now I get to read his face with hope that the anger is depleting, the sadness is dissipating. I get to watch for his smile to come back, as well as his easy-going manner.
Until then, I get to live in the seventh circle of hell.
Because I got confused. Because I fucked up. Because I’m a horrible person.

I need to go.
Amanda