• He laid he his head down on my breast and sighed heavily. I wondered in my mind why he seemed so depressed. He turned his head and my shirt twisted. I straightened it and kissed his forehead.
    His name was Wes. My name is Annie. I dreamt of that day for so long. I dreamt of kissing him tenderly. I dreamt of holding his hand in mine. I dreamt of looking up into that starlit sky and leaning happily against his shoulder.
    It wasn't the same though. Wonderful, but not the same. I knew something was going to go wrong. I knew it all along. I knew in my heart that the hole he left before would just widen. It would keep widening and pulse with pain when he broke up with me, but I pushed the thought out of my mind.
    He pressed his lips so tenderly against mine and held them there for a long time. Again, I wondered why he seemed so unhappy. "Am I doing something wrong?" I asked myself. I couldn't imagine why he was so upset. I thought he would be happy that he had me, but no he wasn't.
    Now I think of that day and whenever I see him I want to die. He more than widened the hole, he broke my heart completely apart. I want him to pay. I want him to feel my pain, but he seems so emotionless. I see girls pass him by and I see him glance. I feel so jealous. They talk to him, and he talks to them. I feel a surge of anger and jealousy. "Why am I so jealous? Why can't I get over him?" I ask myself, but then I remember what I always knew from the start. I was never going to get over him.